


The Sacrifice's Memories

by catalinaD (FanFicDotNetTransfers)



Series: Sacrifice [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-11
Updated: 2010-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 122,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26038648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicDotNetTransfers/pseuds/catalinaD
Summary: Fifteen and a half years after Cyrodiil is pulled back from the brink of destruction, Martin Septim, priest turned emperor, receives a threat on his only daughter's life. The only one he can trust is a woman who walked away, vowing never to return: Katryn Gwynyth.
Relationships: Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Martin Septim
Series: Sacrifice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890010
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Original story at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5436709/1/The-Sacrifice-s-Memories

It seemed there was an unsettled air over the whole of Morrowind and not just over those gathered. The wind had risen again laden with the threat of yet another sand storm. Usually cheerful stars were glittering half-heartedly in the hazy sky as though they, too were fearing the weather and the evil that was meeting beneath them. Inside the cavern these bright eyes watched, the air was even more volatile. It was a group made up of mostly Dunmer with the odd Altmer or Bosmer thrown in. Any others would have been tossed out immediately with throats cut first, being outsiders and therefore at fault in the eyes of this cult.

"There is a Nord claiming to be Nerevar reborn," The reedy, nasal voice echoed around the dry, stale air of the cavern and immediately captured the others attention without needing a command, "This will be our best chance."

Two dozen pairs of eyes were fixed on the small brunette Bosmer. His own hazel eyes were fiery and there was a thick warning note to his voice that told them he was not to be trifled with. Several of the other Elves present could dispatch the Bosmer easily but at the moment he was their only hope if the plan was to fall through.

"A Nord?" An arrogant female voice, one of maybe four, repeated, "Nerevar reborn a barbarian dog?"

"That is the rumor," The Bosmer was calm, his voice soothing. Nothing gave away the inward fury and indignation he felt at this information, "With the focus being entirely on this, we will be able to act freely. Septim himself will never suspect this. Our players have been strategically placed and we are slowly learning the pros and cons of our plan. His daughter is well guarded but it is nothing we cannot handle. Once she is taken care of and the body disposed on Vvardenfall's shore, we will be free to make our move."

"Which is?" This from another token female.

All eyes flickered to her and away again just as quickly. She was seated calmly, relaxed, but everything about her screamed _'Dangerous!'_ Tall and lithe, the Altmer's blue eyes were so pale they were practically white; at one time she was probably quite beautiful but life had hardened her features and numerous battles left their marks. The most noticeable and frightening was the one that had been left by a badly swung mace 10 years prior. The swing had occurred well after her opponent knew he was done for and there had been nothing but desperation behind the blow. But desperation was enough and she had made a mistake that she never would again. Her duck and attempted weave to get away was her downfall. If she hadn't ducked quite so low or taken into account the fact the mace was swinging on a chain, she would have been quite unmarred. What happens, happens however and she was not going to live in the past. The razor edges of the mace had caught the soft flesh above her eye and proceeded down, carving long, deep gouges into her face and forever disfiguring her. Infection had made the healing process longer and for a time she herself was afraid to look at her own face. The sliced third of her eyebrow never would grow hair again giving her face a comically quizzical look that no one remotely considered smirking at; the almond shaped eyes were mismatched and one corner of her full lips was pulled down, finishing the lopsided features.

While the gazes of everyone else shied away from this intimidating figure, the Bosmer examined her with interest. Her Netch hide armor was tooled beautifully and the ebony short sword at her hip was one of finest quality. It had to be considering that he could see masterful smithing from his perch 7 yards away. Her auburn hair was twisted into a heavy coil and pinned up with a grace that came from breeding. He studied her face next, pitying the scars blemishing an otherwise striking expression: her nose was straight and fine and the pale eyes were eyeing him with as much interest as she would eye a slug in her garden. The arrogance in the face suddenly struck him and he smothered his surprise quickly, wondering how he couldn't have recognized her right away. Hazel eyes returned to the scars and he changed his mind again.

"All in good time, Bargth," He answered and enjoyed the effect that his words had on those gathered.

Nema Bargth's jaw clenched momentarily before she got firm hold of her temper and she inclined her head to the little Elf. Her parentage was not something she wanted to discuss _now_ but she knew it was only going to be a matter of time before someone realized. The lean figure beside her sat up even straighter, if that was possible, and a snarl rumbled in his throat. Nema barely lifted a finger and he eased back, glaring maliciously at the Bosmer.

"Well, I for one, would like to know what I am getting myself into before I agree to place my highly valued life in your hands, Heidl," Speaking softly, Nema saw that several of the others nodded their agreement and looked expectant when they glanced at Heidl.

"Some of us would consider it a great honor to give our lives for a cause that has meant everything to us," The comment came from the first woman that spoke and her orange and red eyes glittered with malice.

"If you are so enamored of causes, you should go and join your barbarian dog and give your life for him. Unless of course that would be asking too much?" Nema didn't raise her voice and her eyes barely smouldered but the effect was like she had done both and than some.

The Dunmer's dusky skin flushed grey and she let out a hiss of anger, her hand dropping to her belt where several knives were snug in their scabbards. The menacing figure beside Nema reacted instantly, rolling to his feet so he towered over all the rest and placing himself between Altmer and Dunmer before advancing on the latter. Her eyes didn't have time to even flicker with fear before Heidl stepped in.

"Enough," He said sharply in a tone that was meant to be obeyed. Eyeing the silent, red skinned, black eyed Dremora distastefully, he added, "Bargth, get him under control and, Lothan, shut up. If we start the violence amongst ourselves, we will be destroying any chance of fulfilling our plans. Once Septim's daughter is killed and Morrowind blamed, war will be launched. The Imperial Legion and Cult will be no match for Septim's Blades and they will be wiped out."

"And what happens after the Legion and Cult are taken care of?" Nema questioned as her Dremora sank reluctantly down next to her once more, "The Blades are some of the best warriors that Tamriel has seen in generations. They will not be cast out easily."

"We must have patience," Heidl spoke lazily and his eyes glinted with something like mischief, "We will wait for them to trickle out and during this time will strengthen our own forces. The Imperials are a proud, suspicious lot and Septim will not like leaving his domain unprotected for long."

"Are you counting on this 'Nerevar' claim to be a distraction?" Nema once again seemed to voice the question that was on everyone's lips.

"That is all part of the political side, Bargth and has no bearing here," Heidl was choosing his words carefully, conveying that now was not the time for that discussion.

Nema leaned forward and her eyes never left the little Bosmer.

"That is what I happen to be most interested in. The politics of this may factor very highly in my ultimate decision."

Heidl remained silent for a moment. Now was not the time to reveal his entire hand, but he could not deny Nema's claim. She came from the fairly prominent Erabenimsum tribe, her father being the Ashkan, or leader, of the Dunmer Ashlanders. He had caused quite a fervor when he brought home an Altmer bride instead of holding to tradition and marrying a daughter of an ally. Nema, before her wounds, resembled her late mother greatly and wanted nothing to do with her Ashland ties while so many of them depended on ancestors and tradition. Nema placed strength in her own abilities and nothing else, though she was not above using these ties to get her what she wanted. And she was right, everything may indeed come to rest on whether or not her tribe accepted the Nord's proclamations.

"That will all be revealed in time," He answered finally.

"So until then we're just supposed to trust you?"

"It's not as bad as you may think," The Bosmer's smile was amused and sly, "The most important thing is to get that false warning to Septim and going through step one. Everything beyond that will be worked out well enough."

Nema was not comforted, but it seemed the rest were, for the most part. A few were nodding agreement and others looked less troubled. The Altmer glanced sidelong at her companion and arched her brows. The Dremora's face was unreadable, which was usual, although the black eyes were questioning. He knew that Nema would never be completely satisfied with anyone else's plans and he wondered what her decision would be. Not that it would mean much to him; their understanding was such that he would follow her to the ends of the earth. He leaned closer as those around them started getting to their feet and talking excitedly about the future. A future that would not involve the power and money hungry Cyrodiil Empire.

"Will this be worth our time?" He asked in an undertone as his black eyes roved disdainfully over the crowd.

Nema was idly stroking the hilt of her ebony sword as she leaned back against the dirt wall. She was staring into space, thinking on exactly that subject. There had never been a moment in her life where she didn't try to undermine her tribe at every turn and now that there could be a very real dilema and not just a petty enterprise on her part, this would not be an easy decision. She knew that if the tribe went along with this Nord, she would be given the chance to lash out at her oppressors like never before; and if not... well she may just have to turn revolutionary. There was nothing wrong with taking sides with the strongest: she had done so in the past and her number one priority was her own neck. If things had been any different, she wouldn't be alive now.

"Let them have their moment," She answered finally, nodding to the others. The Dremora was so used to her brooding silences that he wasn't surprised she had taken such a long time, "Heidl likes to have his secrets and he can't stand for others to take his credit. He will not keep this one long and we can afford to wait. Who can say, Yvex, this may be what we've been waiting for."

The Elves gathered stayed long into the night and between conversing with Heidl and a few others that were brave enough to confront her with Yvex present, Nema noted that an Altmer slipped unobtrusively out the door and into the dust storm. She allowed a crease of a frown and became silent once more. The Altmer was one she had spotted earlier and kept an eye on, not sure why. He had sat by himself, a little apart from everyone else, which was nothing; she herself sat apart save for Yvex. But there was a decidedly suspicious air about him, he just simply did not belong and now he was leaving far too soon to truly be a part of this gathering.

Yvex was frowning at her, reading her as if she was a book and she jerked her head to the door at the same moment that she motioned him forward. She told him in a murmur what was going on and his frown grew as he glanced at the door.

"Should he be followed?"

"I think that's been taken care of," Nema replied, her blue-white eyes fixed beyond him.

Two Dunmer were leaving the cavern as well, straight and erect, and fully armed. The wind howled by the door and blew dust into the entrance of the cave before it was closed with a snap. Heidl met Nema's gaze and he quirked his mouth sardonically with a small shrug. Nema inclined her head and turned her attention back to her Dremora. If the interloper was taken care of, she would think nothing of it.

* * *

The Altmer got maybe 300 yards down the road before the Dunmer caught up with him. If the night was still and the wind calm, he would have stood a better chance to get off the road and hide, as it was he didn't hear them until the first blow came. A hammer-like fist crashed into the back of his skull and sent him sprawling to the dirt. Before he could even begin to defend himself, a sharp kick went to his ribs and he felt the sickening crack of bone. The breath went out of him and stars danced behind his closed eyelids. He could barely hear the murmur of voices above him as he gasped for breath and tried to struggle to his knees. A hand knotted into his hair and a second later the same fist slammed into his cheek. There was an explosion in his head but the merciful blackness that overtook him spared him the knowledge of a broken jaw and several shattered teeth.

The two Elves didn't allow his state to stop them and they made quick work of turning the Altmer into something looking less than human. When they had spent themselves, the taller of the two glanced at his companion, talking loudly over the wind.

"Would you like to finish the cretin off or should I?"

The other shrugged unconcernedly and turned the body over roughly with one boot. This business was something that had been part of his life for years and when the end came it always left him wanting more.

"Let's leave him for the animals," He said roughly. A knife in the neck had almost killed him 7 years ago and left his voice hoarse and low, "After this damn storm, they'll need something."

They dragged him off the road and dumped him unceremoniously down a sharp incline. He disappeared in a haze of dust that the wind caught and spun crazily up in front of them. They didn't wait for it to settle, wanting to get out of the storm and back to the shelter of the cavern. If they had, they would've seen that there had been another quick enough to get off the road; another that carefully eased from his hiding place and crept down the incline to the prone figure.

He shook his hands from his sleeves, not jarring the scarf that was wrapped around his face, and felt for a pulse under the bloody, battered face. It took a moment but he could feel it, very feeble against his fingers. Though it was hard to see through the storm, blood was pouring thickly from several gashes and splits in the Altmer's face. His jaw was hanging awkwardly, obviously broken, and when his saviour slid one hand gently around his shoulders to lift him, a pained groan burst from split lips. His head lolled, but naturally, and the other knew that these few moments of intense pain were going to be worth it to the Altmer in the long-run.

He struggled to heave the Elf as best he could onto his shoulders and winced as the man let out a whimper of pain. It felt as though the ribs on his right side were gone and he prayed that the Altmer would stay oblivious: it was not long to the rescuer's cave, but it would be very slow going.

* * *

Memories were wonderful. They kept one sane in times of trouble and despair. Memories of good times and friends, of those moments that were so precious and intimate that to speak them would make them disappear, of family gatherings that meant everything after someone you loved was gone. Well, perhaps keeping one sane was a stretch. There were bad memories as well, memories that haunted your dreams and waking hours so that even the smallest task was made impossible. And these were the memories that Katryn Gwynyth could do nothing but dwell on.

At the moment she was standing ankle deep in the Abecean Sea, a pastime that had become habit for her in the past 13 years that she had lived outside the town of Anvil. That summer had been a long one and Katryn was as happy as she could be with circumstances being as they were. She had been able to swim practically everyday and it made her feel almost like she was at home again. After things ended so abruptly in the Imperial City she fled to her parents', needing that familiar and comfortable atmosphere more than she ever had before. She had stayed there for two and a half years, looking over her shoulder every minute of it, afraid that everything would be made even more complicated than it was already. But her worry had been for naught and soon she grew tired of the calm and quiet of the family's quaint home, which was understandable. She had been the Blades' errand girl for months and now that it was done, she didn't know what to do with herself. So she had packed her things, gathered up her shadow because Gozrak still refused to leave her side, traveled back to Cyrodiil and settled far from the Imperial City and Bruma. She knew she did herself no favors buying the little cabin on the outskirts of Anvil, where Martin had been raised, but some self-castigating part of her wanted to be there, to feel close to him when physically miles away. It helped that there was still no teleportation platform in the small fishing village and she rationalized that she was living two miles north of town. And the past 13 years had been peaceful, lonely perhaps, but peaceful.

The cool water swelled around her slender ankles, soaking the first three or four inches of her skirt hem and broke her grim reveries. She glanced up at the bright blue sky and saw that the sun was lowering even more into the green-blue water. Fall was coming and she could feel it in the chill of the breeze. Her little bay here was gorgeous in the fall and winter and she could see the storms coming miles out to sea. With a long sigh, she turned back to the shore and the little trail that led through the shrubs and wind stunted trees back to the cabin. Gozrak would be coming by any moment and though he knew where she would be if she wasn't in the house, he still had that decidedly worried look each time he found her again. She moved reluctantly from the saltwater and along the way to the house. It was a pretty little place, nestled into a glen amongst tall, strong green pines and twisted, red barked madrona. The front lawn was lush and a deep green while around the house were flowering bushes that flourished in the salt air and bloomed beautifully against the stones of the cottage. The thatched roof would have to be replaced next year, she saw as she approached the front. She skirted the corner of the house and moved around to the back where the scents from her garden were strong in the air. For as restless as she had been at home helping her mother and father with domestic cares and worries, here she had settled easily into life as Anvil's resident healer. It had taken some time for the men and women to trust her and she had had a hell of a time living down her reputation as the Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodiil. The titles still made her cringe and there were always those odd few that persisted in treating her like she was the next best thing to a diety. But the people of Anvil had come to love and respect her and they were soon more protective than anything else of the once great hero they had living in their midst. Perhaps they liked that she was so determinedly normal or they worried about the melancholy air surrounding her; whatever the reason, most had been quick to open their arms and homes to her and trust her with their illnesses. What was more, she knew exactly what she was doing and she was excellent at mixing the potions the simple village needed.

As she reached the back door, her wolf-hound, Hecter, picked up his head and his silver-grey tail thumped the ground. She smiled a little and spoke softly in Elvish; Hecter got to his feet at once and pressed himself against her affectionately. She stroked the hound's soft head. He had been a gift from Toben Levin six years ago when Gozrak moved permanently into the city after remarrying. Toben hadn't liked the idea of Katryn being alone in the house two miles from the nearest person, especially with the rogues that had been thick in the woods at the time. She had excepted the puppy gratefully. Her faithful friend Toben: the man that checked too constantly on her, worried too much and had proposed every year for the past five. At times she was so exasperated with the question that she was tempted to tell him yes simply to get him to stop and at times the thought was actually quite serious. Why shouldn't she marry? Hadn't he? And then she remembered just why _he_ had and she choked those unfair thoughts and turned Toben down as gently as she could.

A soft whinny interrupted her and she threw a quick smile in the direction of the quaint, stone barn and large fenced field where Immel's little family was housed. Her loyal mount, aged beautifully and as stubborn as the day was long, was still with her of course and showed no sign of leaving the world anytime soon. His mate, Thera, was a proud, staunch mare and the leggy colt, Fyr, was every bit as stubborn as his sire.

Yes, Katryn had her own kingdom here. Perhaps not as graceful and domineering as what she could have had, but it was wholly her own and she had worked hard to accomplish that, all those bad memories be damned. Most of the work was done while trying to do just that, trying to banish those from the forefront of her mind where they were determined to stay. She could almost manage when working with the townspeople repairing dams and bridges that suffered constantly in the fall and winter storms; the tasks she set about with Gozrak was another escape, though he reminded her sharply of that past age; and then there was the work with Toben who was always willing to lend a hand. He helped her thatch her roof that first time, repaired the chimney for her, they built Immel's fence and the troughs that had yet to break down and leak. He was a good man, would make a fine husband, but not for her. She treasured him too much as a friend and wanted to see him happily settled with a woman that would love him without fail and Katryn was just too broken to do so. The past was still just beneath the surface no matter how hard she tried to fight it and she would too soon be forced to rip open the old wounds and perhaps never let them heal again.


	2. Chapter 2

Pale green eyes slowly blinked open, or at least one did and only halfway. The inside of the cavern was dark and still; he could barely hear the sound of the wind howling outside. The Elf shifted his weight slightly and almost screamed when pain radiated throughout his body, starting in his ribs and spreading everywhere. Stars exploded behind his automatically closed eyelids and he struggled to catch his breath. There was movement to his left and a gruff, soft voice spoke,

"Easy there, lad," He spoke with a heavy Nordic accent that made it hard to understand some words, "They did a number on you and you'll only make it worse."

The Altmer didn't need to hear the words as he heeded them, forcing himself to relax. A cool cloth was laid over his face and he felt whatever salve or ointment present begin to work on his puffed and gashed face.

"What's your name, lad?" The voice asked as one hand pulled down the blanket to get a look at his busted ribcage, "'Elf' works, I suppose, but it would be nice to know."

The Altmer moistened his lips, feeling the stiffness of a recently set jaw and not liking the absence of three or four teeth. He steeled himself against the pain before he answered but it did no good.

"Len," He rasped and it sounded like a groan, "Len Kerlan... I have to... get to the... Imperial City... the Emperor... false warning..."

Bhaer watched with pity as the Elf's head tossed restlessly back and forth across his pillow. The Nord had been listening to these ravings for the past day and a half and he wondered how bad the fever would get before it subsided. The Altmer was clearly a member of Septim's guard, or at least thought he was and Bhaer at first believed that he had received one too many blows to the head. The Nord turned away and rummaged through his shelves until he came up with potion that he wanted all the while, Shiel, his pet wolf and only companion, watched from her solitary corner. Her master stirred the potion quickly over the fire and then returned to the bed, easing the Elf gently into a sitting position and forcing the draught down him. Len choked a few times, but swallowed it all and felt the effects immediately. He was asleep before he even hit the pillow again.

Bhaer moved to Shiel's corner and settled himself on the bedroll beside her. The wolf leaned against him and laid her head in his lap, closing her gold eyes as he rubbed her ears. Bhaer pet the animal absentmindedly, watching as a peaceful expression came across his patient's swollen, bruised face. For the first time since the terrible night he had had to reset the poor man's jaw, he felt hope and knew that everything would be just fine.

* * *

Katryn's errand into Anvil always took much longer than she wanted. She couldn't cross the street without being hailed by this fisherman or that farmer or, currently, the town's seamstress. Talk inevitably lead to sickness in the family and what could be done about it. Katryn didn't really mind; she liked that the people were so open and honest with her and she much preferred this attitude to the fawning that she received over the 'Champion of Cyrodiil' title. As usual, the wince accompanied that thought and prompted Taral, the seamstress, to ask if she was feeling well. Katryn's lips parted to set her at ease and then changed her mind.

"Actually I have been feeling a little poorly," She said and the distaste for the lie came across as an expression of pain, "I think I'll finish up here and just head back home to rest."

Taral immediately agreed, wishing her well and going on her way. Katryn did her best to shake off the guilt of that lie and then continued to Gozrak's smith. The Orc's business had flourished just as Katryn's had and the townspeople were hard pressed to find a better repairman. Unbidden to her thoughts came the image of Ami and Naman Freh, Martin's adoptive parents. Patient, steady Naman and beautiful Ami, with eyes the color of her older brother and late Grandmaster of the formidable Blades, Jauffre Mel. Martin moved them into the palace not long after his coronation and left the city of Anvil without their master blacksmith. So when Katryn turned up with her shadow and Gozrak's skills were proven, the people had proceeded to make him very successful.

At the moment, the Orc was seated outside the smith in the sunshine with a broad sword laid across his knees. The whetstone scraped across the steel and the unmistakable sound was just audible over the sound of the villagers going about their business. When he spotted his Elf crossing the street towards him, he brightened considerably. She looked better today than she had last night: her eyes were flaming more like they should and some of the dark shadows were absent underneath. The smile she flashed him was quick and bright as she dug in her pouch and puled out Marna's potion.

"Hello, Gozrak, how is she today?"

Marna, Gozrak's wife of the past 6 ½ years was sick with her first pregnancy and Katryn's potions seemed to be the only thing that brought relief.

"She said she was feeling better, but she still looks like hell," He replied, his hands never quieting over his work.

Katryn allowed the ghost of her old grin. It was a wonder her Orc even remarried; _remained_ married was a better phrase. His habit of saying the first thing that popped in his head could be perceived as heartless, but Marna was no fool and she had him wrapped completely around her little finger.

The Orc felt his spirits droop again. He knew that his ward had allowed maybe two or three dozen true laughs and smiles in the past 15 ½ years and he felt helpless to protect her from such pain. More than anything he wanted to see her happily settled. Never more than now, when he himself had never been so content. Well, not since the death of his first wife and their little boy. But Katryn had always been stubborn about such things and she was given to bouts of sullen brooding for last dozen years. He hadn't asked questions when they left the Imperial City so abruptly in the night, without so much as a word to anyone and she hadn't bothered to explain. Not that he needed her to. The Elf never mentioned his name anymore and seeing as Gozrak would die rather than hurt her, he didn't either. But the very thought of Martin made bile rise in his throat and to Marna's dismay, he had broken several of their dishes when he unconsciously tightened his fingers like he was throttling something, or someone.

"She will feel even worse if she hears that. Don't forget this," Katryn had moved past him to the entry of the shop where she placed the potion beside his discarded jacket, "I'm going for maybe my last swim of the year. Tell Marna thank you for the invitation but since she's not well, I won't burden her."

Gozrak rolled his coal black eyes in irritation as for the first time, he paused in his work.

"You're never a burden, Gwynyth, don't be ridiculous."

The Elf's mouth quirked as she looked down at him. Same old Gozrak, a blessing and a curse. The stubborn fool knew by now she didn't need his full protection anymore and he would be better off transferring _all_ of it to his wife and let Katryn be. But that was wishful thinking and then some.

"Almost 16 years, Gozrak, and it's still Gwynyth? Can you not remember my first name?"

He had to grin, not able to even pretend to be frustrated. This was the old Gwynyth shining through, the one that refused to stand by and do nothing, the one constantly annoying and scaring the hell out of him with her more questionable exploits.

"You have to admit it's not an easy one to remember," He answered and winced when she landed a fairly solid blow to his upper arm.

"Gozrak Shor'na does not exactly roll off the tongue either. Besides, Levin may be coming into town tonight and he didn't want to miss me."

"It's been a year already?" Gozrak asked with surprise, knowing full well Levin's persistence.

Katryn sighed, her features darkening quite suddenly. Her full lips were pressed into a thin, unbecoming line and her eyes smouldered. The Orc regretted the question instantly.

"One would think after 5 years of hearing no, he would take the hint," She muttered, her voice coming off much sharper than she intended.

"The only way to get him to stop would be to say yes."

Gozrak spoke patiently and was matter of fact as he went back to work but he could practically feel the heat of her orange eyes.

"I will not do that," The Elf's words were soft and dangerous but held such a deep melancholy sadness, Gozrak had to make sure she wasn't crying. Her eyes were dry; nearly on fire, "You know that."

"Yes, I know."

She held his gaze for a moment longer and then smiled tenderly at him. Reaching out and squeezing his shoulder, she added,

"You mean well and I appreciate it. Thank you."

His gaze followed her until she disappeared down the street. Katryn felt it and knew that she hadn't been fair with him. But it was quite different having that same thought of Levin in her head and then hearing it spoken aloud. She winced again. That sounded pathetic and wasn't a good enough reason to snap at him. Gozrak was entitled to know how she was feeling: they were closer than most siblings and for a time, secrets were a taboo between them until that fateful night. She hadn't told him anything, allowing him to draw his own conclusions and not bothering to correct the mistaken ones. Afterall, unless she died of a broken heart, Martin would be safe. Perhaps if circumstances were different, she wouldn't have hesitated and given Levin a firm yes the first time he asked. But now, at this point in time and with the past being what it was, she would be miserable and as a result so would he. And if not, she would have done her best to make him.

The two mile walk did her good and the salt air called to her strongly. She made a sharp left into the woods a short distant from the house and walked the small, almost overgrown trail to the glen. The main drive was just another 200 yards down the road but she enjoyed this much more; listening to the birds' song and admiring the beautiful, gnarled madrona that grew so thick next to the water.

As she came around the last bend and broke through the trees into the glen, there was a long whinny from a horse that was neither Immel nor one of his family. Katryn frowned in confusion. Levin was never this early when he came to visit but perhaps he had been able to get away sooner than normal. Her spirits picked up as she crossed the green lawn and moved towards the front of the house. Save the inevitable question, she was looking forward to his company. He was always a good distraction which was why she felt a little deflated when she came around the corner and spotted an unfamiliar brown stallion and not Levin's grey. She briefly wondered why she couldn't hear Hecter's barks and then saw a soldier crouching in the lawn, feeding the wolfhound some jerky. Hecter bolted to her instantly, tail wagging and tongue lolling. Katryn could sense the traces of magic surrounding him; harmless magic. If she had had to approach a home belonging to Hecter, she would have used a calming spell, too. The man straightened when he saw her and became a soldier, not just a man. She needed only a brief glance to tell her that he was a young Blade officer and her heart dropped. _Now?!_ She thought frantically, _Oh, by all the gods,_ now _?!_

Forcing a smile, she pushed Hecter away from her and approached the young man. To her dismay, he bowed deeply, not meeting her gaze though his eyes flickered with near reverent respect.

"Lady Gwynyth," He said drawing out a sealed envelope, "My Lord Emperor sends a message."

Katryn froze, her burning eyes fixed on the cream colored paper and the seal that was obviously Martin's. The soldier glanced up awkwardly when she didn't take the envelope. Their eyes met and he immediately looked down again as though afraid he was going to get burned. Katryn felt her hand close around the paper but she couldn't remember telling her fingers to do so.

"Please, Blade, we are both human," She told him and was shocked by how normal her voice sounded. Her heart was hammering so loudly it was a wonder he couldn't hear it and her throat was dust dry, "My name is Katryn, without the 'Lady'. Don't worry about being formal."

The young man risked another peak at her. He was an attractive boy with wide hazel eyes and a curly mop of brown hair. His sharply featured face reddened a little at her words and the strong, accented voice proved him to be a Breton.

"I couldn't, Lady," He protested, speaking to the grass and dirt surrounding his boots, "It isn't right."

Katryn allowed one corner of her mouth to tip up, laughing more at herself than him. The envelope felt hot in her hand and she wasn't sure which urge was stronger, the one to read it instantly or the little voice that was telling her to chuck it into the ocean.

"Perhaps you're right," She could hear the amusement in her voice and was glad to see him relax if only a little, "Can I have your name at least?"

"Mat Fara, Lady."

"Well, Mat, come into the house with me and refresh yourself while I read this," She reached forward and took his mount's reins, pulling the stallion to a rain barrel at the corner of the cottage, "This way."

Mat reached out to take the reins and thought better of it, dropping his hand to his side. She was not what he had expected. To look at her, she suited the healer profession well; it was much more difficult to imagine her as the great hero as all the stories proclaimed. The Elf was small and slender by even a Bosmer's standards and gave the impression that she would be easy to overtake, not that he was willing to try. There was a fierce, ruthless intelligence in the burning eyes and Grandmaster Steffan had told them all she was the finest archer the Blades had ever seen.

The Elf opened the stout wood door and waved him in with one hand. The interior of the house was cool and simply furnished. Mat was well aware retirees from the Blades were very well off and the simplicity here surprised him. This woman could be living like royalty and instead she purchased a rustic cottage, quite a bit of land and a long, very desirable strip of beach.

"Ale or beer, Mat?" The soft, accented voice questioned, "There is water as well."

"Ale is fine, thank you, Lady."

Katryn nodded her head and cast her hand again, that absentminded gesture that could be interpreted as self-conscious.

"Please, have a seat."

Mat went immediately to a very comfortable couch and felt his interest pique at the sight of half a dozen or so books stacked on a low table in front of him. Reading was a luxury that his family had never been able to afford and because of this it was hard to imagine one doing so for pleasure. Sunlight streamed through the windows, gleaming dully off the worn floorboards. The rugs were the thick durable kind found in northern regions and he realized that Katryn had spent more on this house than he originally thought. All the furniture in the room was of Elf-make and he recognized designs coming primarily from Morrowind, which would have cost more than one pretty penny. It was built for comfort and longevity and the couch especially showed its age and long use. There were several potted plants in the windows and even more fresh-cut flowers. In the corner, as if to polish off the picturesque image, was a mottled brown and orange cat sleeping soundly in a sun-drenched chair.

If the cups on the tray hadn't clicked together, Mat would never have known Katryn had entered the room again. He surged to his feet, his face flaming at being caught unawares. The Elf was watching him in amusement, her eyes dancing while one corner of her mouth tipped up, giving her a pleasant expression.

"At ease, soldier," She said mildly as she placed the tray on the table, "I am not royalty."

"You deserve the same respect, Lady," He answered stubbornly.

Katryn knew it was no use, but she had never before allowed that to stop her in the middle of a disagreement.

"I was doing what I had to do. Just like any soldier with their orders would have done."

Mat seemed to forget his role in this exchange as he looked her fully in the face for the first time. He was shocked that one who had done so much would drop it in an instant, like it had never meant anything.

"But it was so much more than that," He replied, now borderline impertinent which Katryn appreciated, "Without you, everything would have been lost; we would all be dead, or worse."

"It was not my doing alone, Mat," Katryn kept her voice soothing; she had no wish to insult the boy who was so keen on idolizing her, no matter how much she disliked it, "If not for Jauffre and the other Blades; Baurus Coll and Mas'kari Steffan, and countless others, then yes, you're right, all would have been lost," She poured ale while she spoke and handed him a glass, "Take a seat, please."

Mat was still burning with her flippant tone, but he did as she asked and seated himself once more. The Elf poured half a glass for herself and remained standing as she took up the Emperor's letter. Katryn forced her hands to be still as she broke the seal and slid the parchment from the envelope. The sight of Martin's unmistakable, blocky handwriting tore at her and she moved away from Mat, towards the window with the pretense of needing the extra light. The movement put her behind the boy and out of his line of vision. There was no way she would consent to an audience to this. Her heart was in her throat and she was absolutely terrified as to what he might say. She had faced legions of Daedra, a lava pit that nearly killed her and a madman intent on destroying the world and she had never been this frightened as she stood there with a simple letter between her fingers. Forcing her eyes to focus, she took in Martin's message.

 _Katryn_ , it began, _I won't start with the normal niceties, knowing how you prefer blunt conversation, so I'll simply ask. I need your help, Kat,_

_Mia's life has been threatened and you're the only one I can trust. I can't go into detail here, obviously, but don't think I am using this as some sort_

_of ploy. The past is what it always has been and I have no intention of altering it. Please, Kat, let the old ghosts be, I need you._

_Martin_

Katryn held the letter, staring at the rather peculiar way he had always signed his name. _I need you_ , the sentence leaped out at her, jarring her already shaken nerves. Considering their past, it was a near impossible thing not to read a double meaning there.

"Lady?" Mat asked.

Katryn started a little and turned to him. The Bladed was standing, looking at her curiously. His brows were drawn together in a frown and he tapped his fingers rather impatiently against his ale mug. Katryn made her lips form a smile.

"You are to take back my answer," It wasn't a question and she knew now why he was so concerned. Her voice was thick with emotion and she was sure her eyes were as well. Drawing in a steadying breath and giving herself a shake, she added more briskly, "Should I write it out or simply tell you that I am retired?"

Mat blinked, not understanding her point right away. As soon as he did, his shock was even greater than before.

"You're telling the Emperor no?" He breathed, his hazel eyes growing wider at the ease with which she refused one of the most powerful men in Tamriel.

"I am," Katryn folded the note briskly, surprising herself with the nonchalant attitude, "You needn't have any fear of Mar- the Emperor's wrath when you tell him no, Mat Fara. He will respect my decision."

"But- but, the Emperor needs you," He blurted, looking even more like a young boy as his voice rose in pitch and the realization of his failure came crashing down on him, "I wasn't- I'm not-"

"To leave without me?" Katryn finished, her tone cold and unforgiving for the first time, "Come, come, Mat, retirement doesn't make you ignorant. If I was needed so badly, it would've been a command and not a request, or he would've sent more than one soldier."

Mat's faced flamed a spectacular shade of red this time and he didn't see the change that came over the Elf, the change that had always been a warning and made everything about her say _dangerous_. But Katryn had no intention of physically fighting with him and she didn't think she would, even if he tried to take her bodily. Size meant nothing to her and she knew she would have dozens of chances to seriously hurt the young man, nevermind he was a whole head and shoulders taller than she.

"I am not impugning you," She added in a gentler voice, "But lying gets you nowhere with me and I hate the practice. Besides, the Emperor didn't make any demands of me, it was a simple request from an old friend and I have given a simple answer."

The soldier felt no fear studying her closely this time; she had proved now she was just a mortal woman. Whatever he saw in her eyes both satisfied and disheartened him, for he nodded reluctantly and placed his mug back on the tray.

"Thank you for your time, Lady, and I am sorry you have such feelings. I thought the cause might mean something to you."

Katryn almost grinned at such a low blow as she followed him to the door, but she resisted the urge. Mat was a young soldier that still saw just the glories and fame of war and it would be difficult for him to image someone not sharing his ideals. Especially someone who had seen all of that and more; which prompted her answer.

"I still do, from a distance. The days you are enamored of were long ago, Mat, and wounds you can't even imagine cause breaches that span lifetimes."

She watched as Mat spurred his horse down the drive, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. There was another strong salt breeze and Katryn turned into the house and threw on different clothes before heading to the beach. Her emotions were still roiling and she hated how vulnerable she felt simply by seeing Martin's handwriting. She knew she couldn't go back now; it would undo all of the work she accomplished to put the distance between herself and the past. And she wasn't such a fool that she couldn't see it happening already. When the word went out 11 years ago of the Empress' death, Katryn was left wondering whether or not Martin would seek her out now that he was free, but her life had remained quiet and untroubled. Apart from what she put herself through, of course. Images of Martin's face flashed in her head: their first meeting in the temple of Kvatch, the afternoon they spent perched on the wall of Cloud Ruler, his absolute relief as he held her in his arms after that plunge into the lava pit, the look in his eyes when he kissed her in the Temple of the One when everything had seemed perfect, and the hurt, bewildered look when she told him she was leaving him almost 16 years ago now.

She pressed one hand to her heart, bowing her head and trying to push the pain away. The water caressed her toes and Hecter's cold nose touched her hand. Katryn started a little and then dropped her hand onto his soft silvery-grey head, absentmindedly stroking his ears. The hound leaned against her, seeming to sense her heartache. Katryn watched the sun dance off the sparkling green-blue water and felt change coming on the breeze, an unstoppable powerful change that would drop her right back into the position that she had run from all those years ago.

"Change is coming, Hecter, and neither of us are going to like it."


	3. Chapter 3

The heavy gold signet ring rapped out a sharp beat on the wooden table. Bright blue eyes held the ghosts of the past clearly and the once young, eager face of Martin Freh, Kvatch priest, was drawn and haggard: the face of an emperor that had seen too much; the face of an agonized father. Martin's habit of pacing was still alive and well, but he reserved it for when he was alone. If the guards present were annoyed by the noise they hid it well and Martin found himself wishing he had taken Baurus up on his offer of support. The 'Old Guard', as the former Blades' captain had dubbed them, still treated him like the fresh-faced priest and Martin missed the old days. Sure the danger had been imminent, life was perilous and every moment of everyday was threatened with attack, but there was a crazy illusion that everything seemed _simpler_. Friendships forged those days lasted years, fame was theirs for the taking and their names were included in songs that spoke of great heroes and greater deeds; the love that developed in the heart was the hot, intense burning that transformed into a deep passion spanning the years.

 _But not for everyone_. The bitter thought entered his head before he could check it and a new wave of anxiety washed over him. Fara should have been back by now. Even if he hadn't found her, he was scheduled to report at noon. Martin would wait ten minutes more before sending someone after him. His gaze flickered around the small room and he allowed a rueful smile. If royalty wasn't enough to get whatever he wanted or needed, money certainly was. Securing this room 3 miles south of Anvil had had its price, but not nearly what he had expected. Especially for what he had asked. It was so hard traveling anonymously now and it was a shock to everyone that the simple landlord hadn't realized whom he was speaking with until the deal was made. But so far he had kept his word and his silence, more than happy with the 25 gold pieces that had originally been intended as a bribe.

Martin did his best to push the guilt to the back of his mind. He didn't like this sneaking around and hated that he was being forced here. Add to that, Katryn was going to be more than a little pissed when she found out what was going on. Which was why he was hoping to lure her by appealing to the soft side of her heart with Mia's dilemma. He hadn't been lying, he did need her and though he had every good intention of keeping his promise about the past, it would not be easy. The threat on Mia's life threw him and the first person he thought of was Katryn. Especially considering the source of the threat: if anyone knew how to deal with Morrowind Ashlanders, it would be his Elf.

A sudden commotion outside the door stilled the heartache of that thought. It was opened quite suddenly by a disgruntled Mat Fara. Martin remained seated, his heart sinking. The boy's emotions were written clearly across his face and as usual Baurus had turned out to be right. Apart from telling Martin that Mat was the finest swordsman he had seen in years, the Redguard had warned him that the boy was ruled entirely by his heart. But that hadn't stopped Martin from appointing the Breton to his personal guard: if Baurus saw such promise in Mat, Martin was more than willing to see to the boy's training himself. Mat was bowing deeply, both hands on his sword hilt but Martin spoke first.

"She refused?"

He didn't need to make it sound like a question but he wanted Mat to have a chance to give him a full report. Maybe it was pure desperation: he just wanted to hear anything he could about Katryn. The boy hid his surprise as best he could as he straightened.

"Yes, my lord," His tone conveyed his frustrated anger even better than his face.

Martin inclined his head and got to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. The urge to begin pacing welled up within him and he walked to the window, looking out at the view of the distant mountains and pine forests. Nostalgia washed over him and he realized how much he missed this part of the country. He had grown up trapessing through those woods with his friends, he knew most of the passes and trails like the back of his hand and the desire for simpler days had never been stronger.

"Did she have a message for me?" He asked and wondered at how normal his voice sounded.

Mat glanced around uncertainly, not sure how well the Elf's words would go over here. It was one thing to hear them in her little cottage and it was quite another to repeat them in front of his Emperor and the guards.

"She did, my lord," He dropped his eyes to the floor and hesitated before adding, "She asked me whether she should write a note or simply remind you that she is retired."

Martin felt the sting of the words, though he couldn't stop a smile from crossing his face. That sounded like Katryn. Mat was clearly uncomfortable with passing this on and Martin turned slightly so the boy could see he wasn't holding him responsible.

"That was all?" He answered.

Mat thought back on their exchange, wondering what else the Emperor would need to know. Katryn's words were still reverberated in his head: her flippant tone when she spoke of her accomplishments and refusal, and the bitterness so thick in her voice when she told him of the wounds that caused such breaches in the past. He wondered just what she had meant and knew the only way he could discover it would be to ask the Emperor or Katryn herself. Glancing up at his lord again, he decided to risk whatever Martin might say to him.

"No, sire, she spoke a little of the past."

Martin faced him fully, his hands still hidden behind his back so that no one saw how his fingers tightened, turning his knuckles white. Mat's thoughtful, troubled expression made him wonder exactly what Katryn had said to him and what the boy's impression of her was.

"What did you think of her?" Martin questioned, "And be blunt, Mat, Katryn would appreciate it."

Immediately, Mat's frown deepened and he entered the room a little further, the confusion he felt about the strange Elf overtaking his pleasant surprise that Martin was treating him as an equal.

"She's... not what I expected, sire. I treated her with the respect I believed due her and she didn't like it. She told me that her accomplishments in the past was not just her doing and I think she simply wanted equality amongst the praises."

"Equality with who?"

"She mentioned Grandmaster Jauffre and the Blades, General Coll and Grandmaster Steffan, my lord. I know there were more and so does she, but she knew that I was... impatient," Mat was sheepish and his hazel eyes fixed on his boots, "I was getting frustrated with her and she read me like a book, changing the subject so smoothly I didn't have time to respond. I have never met a person who could divert a situation so effortlessly."

Martin was listening attentively, his blue eyes fixed on the young man so he didn't take notice when one of his guards had admitted a tall, strongly built man to the room with a bow. Mat looked as though he were on the verge of being punished for speaking so boldly and Martin had to once more prompt him into talking.

"So has she changed your mind about past heroes?" He asked and heard the emotion in his voice. By this account, Katryn's feelings had been subdued even more and he knew the part he played all those years ago was the major cause.

"No, my lord," Mat was surprised by the question, wondering if that was the reason behind using him to deliver the Emperor's message, "She was very honest with me and she told me that there were some wounds that caused breaches spanning lifetimes."

Martin couldn't help but wince at that and he wasn't nearly quick enough turning back to the window. Besides he was stopped short in the middle of that movement when a familiar voice spoke into the awkward pause.

"Well, maybe there's hope that our errand girl will turn into a true Dunmer yet."

Martin whirled immediately back to the room and grinned broadly at the sight of Baurus Coll, general of the Emperor's personal guard and former right hand of Jauffre Mel's, along with Mas'kari Steffan. Baurus had always appeared more or less untouched by time and apart from a few extra lines around his eyes and mouth and the shoots of grey in the black hair right at his temples, he was much the same man as he always had been.

"I came to see if you changed your mind," Baurus explained briefly, coming into the room and seating himself at the table with neither bow nor invitation. He ignored the shocked look the two younger guards gave him and nodded to the older men, the ones used to his relationship with both his soldiers and his Emperor.

"It seems you've done so for me," Martin replied drily, though he didn't bother to hide his happiness that Baurus completely disregarded his order to stay behind. He glanced quickly around the room again and then met the eyes of the most senior officer, "Take the men downstairs, I want a word with the general. Mat, thank you for the report, you did well."

Mat bowed deeply and followed the others out the door. As soon as it was shut, Martin gave in to temptation and began pacing briskly back and forth across the floor. Baurus cast a protective spell over door and windows while waiting for his old friend to speak. The tension in the room was thick and the Redguard knew that all had not gone well with Katryn.

"She refused, Baurus, like you thought," Martin said suddenly, not pausing, "According to Fara, she didn't even blink twice after reading the message. She didn't ask where the threat came from, didn't want to know what we were planning to stop this from happening... nothing. I don't understand that."

Baurus was sitting calmly, watching Martin's growing agitation as he paced. He didn't know what the Emperor expected. Katryn was as stubborn as a mule, scratch that, as stubborn as _Gozrak,_ if not more so, about something she had no desire to do and her response was nothing new.

"Well, Fara couldn't exactly tell her what was going on since he doesn't know and I told you what I thought about giving her a choice. Katryn will remain on her strip of beach here until her own are threatened."

Martin faltered in his step and his blue eyes sought out Baurus' black. The Redguard could clearly read what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

"We used to be her own, Baurus. Do you think that still means anything to her?"

"I'm sure it does, but by the end of... everything, all Katryn wanted was peace and quiet," Baurus was careful to steer clear of the more tender subjects, "We could do our best to try and convince her and maybe it will work. We'll just have to give her time."

"Exactly what we don't have," Martin was pacing again, his expression becoming tortured, "I can't give up on her, Baurus, not yet. Mia's life may depend on it and I'll try anything to keep her safe."

Baurus didn't need to hear that, it was very clear that Mia had her father wrapped totally around her little finger.

"So you're still going through with your plan?" He asked, just to be sure.

Martin stopped fully again and faced him. He drew himself up and became an emperor though his eyes flashed briefly with trepidation.

"I have to," He answered with finality.

* * *

The very small courtyard of Nema's mud brick home was filled with the sounds of wooden practice weapons clattering loudly together. The Altmer was facing off with her Argonian trainer and the lizard woman was besting her, at the moment. Nema ducked under a neat swing that would have removed her head and then whirled around behind the Argonian, thrusting her wooden sword towards the woman's back. The trainer was quick though and in a blink of an eye, she had whirled and lashed out with one leg, kicking the weapon from the Altmer's grasp and sending it flying across the courtyard where it was caught easily by Yvex.

"More practice, Lady," Vesar hissed; the dusky, gold flecked eyes were unreadable but the fact that she just had two words for Nema was encouraging. At least she wasn't cursing the Altmer's name anymore. Nema paid her well and she was not a trainer whose direction was to be taken lightly.

The Altmer bowed slightly, feeling the sweat cooling along her back and shoulders. Vesar knew her dismissal when she saw it and turned without a word of farewell to leave the place. Nema was one of her most promising students but the cold heartless look the Altmer had and the rumors that were whispered everywhere about her exploits were not the most comforting things to hear and see. But her bills were paid on time and Vesar was not one to judge. She moved past the Dremora with a slight nod and then went on her way.

Yvex turned back to Nema who was pacing back and forth, her usual routine after a training session. It helped her to cool down and worked out the rest of her frustrations. He tossed the practice weapon between his hands, testing the weight of it and was surprised at how sturdy it was. No wonder Nema was sometimes covered with bruises by the end of a session.

"What news?" She asked as she walked briskly around the courtyard once more.

The Dremora dumped the weapon into the barrel by the door and faced her as she moved to the pump and filled the tankard with clear cold water.

"The two Dunmer who left that night didn't finish the job," His voice was carefully expressionless and he watched as her fingers tightened around the mug, "I retraced our steps to the cavern and looked for any sign of him but was unsuccessful. There was obviously a fight about 300 yards down the road, but the storm covered up most of it. They evidently dumped him off the side of the road, I could see where he had slid and then was joined by someone else: someone who was wise enough to cover any of his tracks to and from the scene. All of your Bosmer's plans may be undone before he even takes another step."

"Not my Bosmer," Nema muttered, her voice close to a growl. Remembering that she had shattered one of her windows the last time she lost her temper and threw the tankard, she put it down before it happened again.

"What is more, the Nord's claims are actually appearing to be founded. He's been meeting with one Cauis Cosades in Balmora and it seems as though this man believes the Nord to be the Chosen."

"Cosades is a washed up Blade that Uriel Septim kicked out of the City when he became too radical," Nema snapped, "He's as crazy as they come and the Nord is not our concern. Heidl however..."

Yvex watched her expression carefully and saw how quickly she was thinking things over. It would take some time for her to figure this out and he knew that she would decide on whatever was going to be best for them, as usual.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Her near white eyes flew up to his and she tipped one corner of her already lopsided mouth.

"No, if the ass can't trust his own men to finish a simple execution then he deserves to be taken unawares."

* * *

Since Levin didn't show up and Katryn was still annoyed and restless after Mat's departure, she took up the most recent orders she had received from the town and went out to the barn. Hecter padded silently after her, close as a shadow as she lit the oil lamps in her small storeroom and shop. She and Gozrak had simply renovated four stalls, built shelves, three dry sinks and two fire pits, one of which she lit now, fighting the cool night air that invaded the barn. Across from the shop and down at the other end of the building, Immel and his family were settling in for the night and she could hear the quiet snorts and whinnies that they let out every now and then. Hecter went to the large cushion in one corner and nestled himself into it where he watched his lady closely. Katryn laid the order book on one of her work benches and began sorting them first by date and then by priority. As soon as that was done, she grabbed the most simple ones, ones that she could actually finish tonight, and spread them apart from the others. Scanning them quickly, she memorized the ingredients of the first like it was nothing and then crossed the room to the small closet area that was her storage. The wide windows that made up one wall allowed enough light into the close space to grow the plants that couldn't be kept dried and behind a partition that split the closet were the shade loving plants and all the dry ingredients she could ever need. She picked the sharp scissors hanging on the wall beside her plants and began clipping what she needed of the living ones and scooping from the dried. Her mind was busy while she worked and she was completely immersed in remembering the order when Hecter growled menacingly. Katryn frowned and cocked her head, thinking maybe she had imagined it and then heard him again more clearly. Dropping her scissors beside the chokeweed she was trimming, she hurried back into the shop with one arm still full of the other cuttings and stopped short in the doorway.

There was a tall, broad shouldered man leaning over, extending one hand to Hecter who was standing perfectly in front of the storage door. A dark cloak was over his shoulders and head and though there was something familiar about his stance, Katryn couldn't make out his features since the lamp was behind him and he was looking down at the hound.

"My lord, don't-"

At the sound of her voice, the man's head snapped up, the hood falling back and Katryn's heart stopped. Bright blue eyes drank her in as Martin slowly straightened and allowed his hand to fall to his side. The look on his face was sheepish and he lifted his shoulders slightly as though apologizing to her. Katryn noticed two guards she didn't recognize standing in the doorway and they, too, were looking at her levelly as though waiting for something. Her eyes went back to Martin and he smiled slightly.

"Hello, Kat," He said.


	4. Chapter 4

Katryn blinked, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her and when he was still standing there, she dumped her armload on the shelf beside her and then slowly faced him again. She dropped her gaze as she closed one fist over her heart and bowed low.

"Highness, to what do I owe the honor?"

Martin winced at that and clenched his hands tightly. Seeing her was bad enough, did she have to be so formal!? He couldn't help but stare at her, taking in her every change and the many things that stayed the same. The dusky, near black skin was as smooth as it had always been and her stature was straight and erect, making her appear taller. Her eyes still burned with an intensity that seemed to have lost some of its life and there were tiny lines at their corners, along with her full lips. The slender neck was bent gracefully and there was such a grandeur about her bow that one would think she was royalty as well. _Nearly, huh, Freh?_ Martin pushed that violently to the back of his mind.

"You know already," He replied and rooted himself, against his will, when she met his gaze again. The guards behind him were forgotten and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and completely forget the last 15 years, "I need your help, Katryn."

The Elf dropped her hand to her side again and didn't move from the doorway, nor did she call to Hecter. The hound was still directly in between them and though his hackles were down, he remained standing, his brown eyes fixed on Martin. Katryn knew that Mat had just been the beginning of this fiasco but she never imagined that Martin himself would come. Yet here he was, looking haggard and pale and thoroughly like her priest. Her heart twisted in pain and she took a deep breath, never wavering from his direct gaze.

"I have given my answer," She replied, forcing her voice to calmness, "I can't, Martin."

The guards immediately snapped to attention and entered the shop to stand just behind Martin. Hecter was on the defensive again just as quickly: his fur stood on end and he growled even more ferociously. The younger of the guards glared at Katryn as the other kept an eye on Hecter.

"You will treat the Emperor with respect," He said in a harsh tone, his eyes flashing.

Martin was still watching his Elf and he saw with relief that she wasn't in the least offended. Indeed she seemed amused and only he recognized the dangerous glint in the fire colored eyes for what it was. If there truly was any threat from the two men, they wouldn't stand a chance. It had been almost 16 years since Katryn fought but time meant nothing and she had _never_ allowed odds to sway her. Much as he hated looking away, Martin turned to his guards and spoke softly.

"Please, let me deal with this," He said and his voice was all authority, nevermind he was almost pleading with them, "Wait outside with the mounts, I will be there shortly."

Katryn, striving for normalcy and waiting for her heart to quit its footrace, turned to the clippings she had taken and began sorting them on the table. She struggled to remember the potion she was to make but her mind came up blank, too filled with the fact that Martin was _here_ and not miles away. There was a sudden movement to her right and the order sheet was laid down next to her hand. She stared at it, trying to keep her breathing steady as she realized how close he was to her. Hecter must have relaxed or followed the threats outside, usually he would not allow someone so close to her unless he trusted them. She tried reading the words she had written and nothing stuck.

"Please, Kat," Martin murmured and Katryn's eyes drifted shut. He was standing close enough that he could catch that clean, fresh air scent he remembered, this time with a hint of saltwater. Her hair was the same dark brown but the summer sun had sent streaks of honey through it and being this near, he saw the little wrinkles by her eyes and mouth were even more pronounced, "I can't do this on my own."

One hand was gripping the corkbulb root so hard that the tangy, bitter smell was tingling their noses. She opened her mouth to respond without opening her eyes when he laid his hand over hers. They both froze and her eyelids flew apart, her entire body stiff.

"I don't think you're supposed to crush it just yet."

The amusement in his voice brought her back to herself and tightening her fist even more around the root, she sidestepped him and pulled her hand away. She didn't look at him as she placed a few yards between them. Hecter came to her side and gave her a little comfort. As long as she could control her own passions and not walk into Martin's arms willingly, Hecter would die trying to protect her from the emperor.

"You have your Blades," She told him and hated how uncertain and shaken her voice was, "Why do you need me?"

Martin clenched his fists again and committed to memory the feel of her hand underneath his palm. She was facing him and the her pulse was hammering clearly in her throat, though her gaze was steady, letting him know she was willing to listen at least. He sighed and then raked one hand back through his hair. His blue eyes darted around the room as though he was trapped and it took him a moment to answer.

"You're the only one I can trust with this."

"The only one?" She repeated and her voice was skeptical. Arching a brow at him, she spread her hands, the bruised root grasped loosely in her right, "How am I the only one? Surely you can't mean that."

Again the blue eyes went around like a trapped animal's and he shook his head a little, his expression becoming annoyed. The desire to hold her was still present but her obstinacy held him back, add to it that worry for his daughter was taking over his mind again. If Katryn didn't help him, he wasn't sure who to turn to next.

"Would you..." He trailed off, realized he was pacing and came to a sudden stop. Facing her and shrugging his shoulders for a second time, he continued, "Would you at least come to the palace with us and give me a chance to explain things fully?"

Her gaze was challenging and she tossed the root onto the table. This was the old Katryn, the one that hated it when someone was not straight with her; when someone was obviously beating around the bush.

"Explain them now."

Martin drew himself up and met her glare for glare. Who was she to treat him like _he_ was the subject and she was ruler? What right did she have when he could order her to do anything he wished?

"You dare to make demands of your emperor?" He said coldly and was too disheartened and angry to think twice about who he was talking to in such a way.

Katryn went still and her eyes narrowed, all the heat of her anger and the passions that the sight of him conjured icing over. Her burning eyes fixed on him and her blue-black skin flushed grey in fury.

"Either tell me what you need so desperately for me to know or get the hell out of here," She answered and her voice was cold and unforgiving.

His anger matched her own in intensity and he remained tight-lipped and silent as they glared across the room, each waiting for the other to make the first move. He knew by experience that Katryn could stay stubbornly mute for days when she was angry with someone and he just couldn't afford the luxury of even one day.

"I can't even trust my own guard outside," He said finally, his voice tight and clearly not liking to concede to her bull-headedness.

"Than you should have brought men you can trust," She returned. The idea that he thought of her as nothing more than another subject stung and she couldn't merely let it be.

"I can't trust any of them!" He exclaimed in frustration and began pacing again, "Even the Blades. The source of the threat is too... convenient. And the way it reached me... You're the only one I can trust implicitly. You and Baurus and Mas'kari."

"Then select one of them," The cold tone didn't suit her but she didn't attempt to alter it, "You've given me my retirement and since you have not commanded anything from me, I don't believe you have any intention of going back on your word."

"I asked you as an old friend," His own anger was easing and his blue eyes were more sad now than frustrated when he stopped moving and looked her in the face, "I didn't see any need to command you because I thought it would be more effective to ask in the name of friendship."

"And now you know it wasn't," Katryn softened a little and added more gently, "I am tired, Martin, and I gave most of myself to the Blades. When I left I closed that portion of my life for what I hoped would be forever. Please, don't ask me to go back, that will mean too much pain for both of us."

Martin's heart was sinking. Katryn's words were deadly serious and the knowledge that she was in so much pain was tearing at him. Despair washed over him and his anger left him in one breath. His shoulders slumped and the fight went out from him.

"And what of Mia?" He questioned and the helplessness of his voice almost made her cave in to him.

Katryn shook her head slightly and had to drop her gaze from his. She hated that she was causing him such pain but if she backed down now, she could never come back again.

"Martin, if you can't tell me why you need me so badly, I can't help you," She replied and was surprised to find that she sounded normal. Her voice was even and reasonable though her ebbing anger gave it an edge that could easily be interpreted as heartless, "Baurus and Mas'kari will do anything for you, but I... for the past 15 years I have been trying to piece together a normal life for myself without avail. I am broken, Martin, too broken to be of much use to you and Mia may be in more danger if I do help than if I stand by. Please, leave me be, I can't do this now."

The emperor lowered his gaze to his hands and tried to come to terms with what she was saying. Her pain was even more obvious and his dismay deepened. He hadn't meant to hurt her, coming by to ask for help, but such was life. He squared his shoulders and lifted his head proudly, vying for the regality that had served him so well for years.

"So be it," He replied and was pleased that his own tone was as normal as hers, "Thank you for your time, Lady. The gods be with you."

Katryn winced and her eyes pricked with tears as she bowed to hide it from him. Martin spotted the quick wince and was on the verge of apologizing before he steeled himself and walked out the door without another glance. The guards were waiting with the mounts as he had asked and he spotted Baurus standing a little apart, watching the moon rise through the trees, over the dark restless bay. The Redguard turned to him a little as he walked to his horse and Martin felt his anger flame once more at the amused, knowing look the general gave him.

"She refuses and I am going home," Martin said shortly as he swung himself onto the big white stallion, "If you want to try and convince her, I wish you the best of luck, you'll need it."

Baurus watched as Martin and his guard spurred their horses and disappeared down the drive. He glanced briefly at the lighted doorway and wondered how wise it would be to approach her now after she had clearly had it out with Martin. He looked up at the half full moon and saw just the eyes of the Old Man tonight. Shrugging rather comically at them, he turned and headed up the little incline to the barn. He had been here before, just once and that was two years ago but they had kept in touch with letters and through Matti, who had always stayed close with Katryn. The Redguard stood in the entry of the shop and looked around curiously. He didn't remember this from last time and when Hecter let out a small growl, his attention was grabbed as he realized Katryn had sunk down to the ground and buried her face into her hands. At the sound of the hound's warning, she looked up sharply and he saw with trepidation that she was crying. Baurus had seen the Elf cry maybe once in the past and he had felt so helpless about it. Tears were not something he dealt with easily and now was no exception, though 10 years of marriage had helped with his reactions. He walked into the shop and went immediately to his old friend. She remained where she was sitting and looked up at him with a lost expression.

"I always manage to screw things up, don't I?" She asked and her voice was small as though she was a child expecting a scolding, "He came to ask for help and I could not even be kind about it. His daughter has been threatened and I am thinking of _my_ heart and not his. What kind of a monster am I?"

Clearly she wasn't waiting for his answer. She buried her face into her hands again and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Hecter was lying protectively on her left side, leaning against her and leaving her right for Baurus. He sat close beside her and drew her to him with one arm. Katryn allowed it, nestling her head into his shoulder and curling into him, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. Baurus placed his chin on top of her dark head and rubbed her arm with one hand. He remained silent, letting her get a handle on her emotions while he considered what he wanted to tell her. It didn't take long. She wasn't crying anymore but she stayed in his arms for a long moment, restored by the innocence in his comfort.

"I'm sorry for such a greeting, Baurus," She finally said and her voice was muffled against his shoulder, "But that was simply too much. Am I a monster to tell him no?"

Baurus didn't respond right away. His hand had wandered further north, stroking her hair as they sat there. He had always loved her a little and still did, too much for a friend. The dampness in his shirt from her tears made him angry with Martin and prompted his answer.

"I think you've had to be strong for your own sake for too long. But don't you think you have punished him enough for what he has done to you?"

Katryn lifted her head and shifted back so she could look him in the face. She frowned at him and wiped at the tears in annoyance. Baurus' arms were still loosely holding her and Hecter's body was warm against her other side.

"Punished him?" She repeated, not understanding.

Baurus lifted one hand and helped to wipe away the streaks left from her tears. Her direct gaze was questioning and he let his hand wander back to tuck stray strands of her hair behind her ear. It was much longer than he remembered and he was well aware that Dunmer women in the position of wise women or healers held to age-old traditions, growing their hair long and only allowing the ends to be trimmed when needed. At the moment, Katryn's was coiled behind her head, weighing down her slender neck like it was too heavy and leaving just a few coy tendrils to tease her face.

"It was almost 16 years ago, Kat," He finally answered, "Can't you forgive him?"

The Elf pushed even further away and was truly confused now. Her brows drew together and she searched his face wondering if this was one of the Redguard's jokes.

"Forgive him? For what?"

"For leaving you. Or, well, for telling you to leave," Baurus spoke matter of factly but with more than a hint of hesitation, clearly worried about hurting her even further, "For marrying Folga's daughter."

Katryn's hands dropped from Baurus' shoulders and she looked away across the room, feeling her heart sink even more, if possible. She shook her head and closed her eyes a little, flabbergasted.

"15 years and he is still trying to protect me," She muttered and shook her head again, this time more fully.

It was Baurus' turn to look confused. He reached out and tipped her chin back to him, studying her face closely. Two years had changed little in her apart from making her lines a trifle more apparent. Right now with the look of such frustrated flattery on her face, she looked like the old Gwynyth.

"Protect you?"

"Baurus..." She trailed off and then started again, "Baurus, he didn't leave me, I left him."

The Redguard's hand fell immediately from her face and he tilted his body back. Black eyes wide with astonishment, he stared at her in a complete loss for words. His mind rewound the years, going back to the night that she and Gozrak left without a word to anyone. He had been so sure it was Martin's doing, especially after his consequent marriage to the Altmer ruler, Folga's, daughter.

"What?" He managed.

"After you told me that night what Folga had planned, I don't think I slept at all," Katryn's soft voice was emotional and quieter than usual but Baurus was listening so intently there wasn't a chance he would miss anything, "There were so many things going through my head, the foremost that Martin must never know what the consequences would be to his marrying me and not Cladia. The only way for me to accomplish that would be to hurt him so badly that he would never _want_ to ask questions and so I set about making it happen. I didn't tell anyone, Baurus, not even Gozrak. I avoided all of you the next day and in the evening, I went to Martin under the guise that we would discuss the future," She was staring off into space over his shoulder and she seemed to age ten years before his eyes, "I don't think I have ever done anything so difficult. He knew something was wrong and he asked me what it was. Before I could even think of what I was doing to him, I told him that I could not marry him; I couldn't stand the pressures of what royalty would mean and that I was leaving. He did not believe me. He thought it was some bad joke and I was so desperate that I became angry and we fought. I... I told him some terrible things and he did the same and we parted furious with each other. He was cursing my name and... regretting the day we met and... I was just so broken by that time that all I wanted was home and the comfort of my family... So I left, gathering up what I needed and Gozrak because I couldn't have left without him if I wanted and ran away."

"Oh, Kat," He said in a sigh, feeling her desperation and sharing her pain. He should never have told her anything, but he had been in the mood to unload that night and she was the first one he ran into, "He wouldn't have given a damn. You never-"

"Exactly why I _had_ to tell him," She interrupted and her eyes were blazing with determination, "If we had married and he had snubbed Folga, what would have happened? War would had been launched and what chance did Cyrodiil stand with a new emperor and trying to recover from intense attacks launched by the cult? All would have been lost, Baurus, and it would have been my fault. How could I have done that to him? To any of us? I had to love him enough to save him and to do that was to let him go."

"Martin's a stubborn fool," Baurus replied simply, "And you're right, he would've completely disregarded the consequences and married you anyway. But I can't believe that you would think it would be entirely _your_ fault. It takes two to make a marriage."

"He would have done it for me and to make him turn from me to Cladia, I had to destroy us both," She smiled wanly at him and there was no amusement in her eyes as she added, "It's a special gift, isn't it?"

Baurus shook his head and then touched her cheek again. He couldn't even imagine what she had put herself through for the past 15 years and he felt partially responsible at least. Afterall _he_ was the one that passed on the news that Meils Folga, lord of Summerset Isle, was planning on offering his only daughter to Martin in marriage. If he had refused the young woman, Folga was more than prepared to launch war on Cyrodiil for the slight and truly seemed to hope it would happen. Cyrodiil had been the most powerful province for sometime and there were several leaders that were just waiting for the chance to bring her to her knees. Katryn was probably right, if Martin had snubbed Folga, an already volatile atmosphere would have exploded. Summerset would have been joined by Morrowind, Elsweyr, Hammerfell, and High Rock at the most; Morrowind, Hammerfell and High Rock at the least. Either way it would not have ended well. Politics being as they were, Valenwood and/or Elsweyr would have remained neutral and Cyrodiil's only ally would have been Black Marsh, a help perhaps, but not enough.

"You see my reasoning?" Katryn was studying him closely and saw how his expression had become so pitying, "There's nothing I could have done. You placed in my hands the power to save Martin's life one last time and I did so by shattering our hearts."

"And now he needs you once more," Baurus spoke gently, carefully, knowing what he was risking, "Don't turn from him, Kat, not now. You've done so much for him in the past, can't you do just this one last task?"

"What happens after, Baurus? What am I to expect when all is said and done?"

Baurus smiled ruefully at her and he shifted a little on the packed dirt floor. He was getting too old to sit for a prolonged period of time on something so firm.

"Whatever the gods will."


	5. Chapter 5

Katryn rolled her eyes and looked exactly like the Blades' errand girl once more. She was sitting straight now and hardly seemed to realize the general's hand was resting heavily on her hip.

"You know I don't-"

"I know, but you're more like yourself now," He let out a breath as he put his feet under him and stood, dragging her with him, "Let's get back to that little hovel you call home and you can show me what you have for refreshments."

Katryn slipped away from him, thinking that a drink or two sounded like a brilliant idea and grabbed the oil lamp. Hecter was immediately behind her as her shadow and she waved one hand towards the door.

"After you."

Baurus left the shop and Katryn double checked to make sure everything would be fine until morning before following after him. They walked back down the incline to the cottage and the cold air bit and crept at them. The moon shone down brightly and seemed to ask why they were carrying the lamp. Katryn wouldn't have needed it anyway but considering Baurus' last experience in the dark, she thought maybe she shouldn't blow it out just yet. She tossed the door open when they reached it and turned wick of her oil lamp down, watching the flame flicker out. The Redgaurd moved into her front room and immediately knelt to build a fire in the fireplace and Hecter followed her back to the kitchen. While Baurus preferred the stout, dark brewed beer, her months with the Blades had given her a taste for ale or a good red wine. She took Baurus' drink and then grabbed the tankard of ale as well and returned to the living room as the general stood back watching the flames licking eagerly at the wood. Katryn placed the tray on the table and then wished she hadn't, it made her think of Mat's visit and she was trying desperately to forget everything that had transpired this afternoon. To keep her mind busy, she poured Baurus' beer and asked,

"How's Matti?"

"Very well and so are the twins," He accepted the cup with thanks and took a seat on her well-worn couch, "They're driving us both crazy."

"8 year olds are supposed to do so," She replied and settled beside him. Cleo, her mottled cat, leapt lightly up beside her and began purring, staring down at Hecter in a superior sort of way that practically dared him to try and usurp her, "Tell me why."

It was added suddenly and Baurus knew she wasn't talking about his twin boys. He sat back, stretching his long legs and balancing his cup between his hands. His black eyes met hers and he paused for a moment before answering. Perhaps this was a good sign. Katryn had a soft heart in spite of her dangerous skills on the battlefield and even deadlier instincts.

"The threat reached us through one of our outposts in northern Morrowind," He said finally, "But there's something off about the whole thing. It came from an Ashland tribe when we have not issued orders to watch any tribes."

"Ashlanders?" Katryn repeated, Martin's adamancy about needing her becoming clear, "Which tribe?"

"We have heard a total of three names: Urshlaki, Marland, and the Zurzanik."

Katryn didn't bother to hide her confusion and her attention was focused fixedly on him.

"Marland? Are you sure? And the Urshlaki and Zurzanik as well? None of this makes any sense."

"Why not the Marland especially?" He questioned, watching her closely. The Elf was doing some very quick thinking and he wished for just a moment that he knew what was going on in that brilliant but eccentric mind of hers, "Martin was right, wasn't he? He knew without a doubt that you would be able to help and would stay damningly mute every time me or Steffan asked him why. So I'll try with you. Why not these three, Kat?"

She grimaced at the reminder that Martin probably knew her better than she did and diverted her gaze to her mug, wrapping her fingers around it. Baurus was too quick for his own good and she had known that Martin would always wear his feelings on his sleeve which would never bode well for either of them.

"My father's great grandfather was a warrior of the Marland tribe before he left in disgrace for marrying an undesirable woman," She replied as she stroked Cleo's soft fur, "A great woman whose only fault was being born to the wrong tribe. But it doesn't matter really, all three of the tribes you named are peaceful. The Ashkhan of the Marlands wanted no quarrel with my ancestors and merely turned them out. If it had been any other tribe, an honor killing would have been demanded."

"But you said all three were peace-loving," Baurus wasn't being completely serious and Katryn knew this, "Nevermind that. Couldn't the others just sort of snap like we all do from time to time?"

The Elf was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence. She sipped her ale and then rubbed at her face. Emotionally, she was spent and the only reason she didn't sneak off to sleep through the next few days was because Baurus' news intrigued her and the desire for answers was foremost.

"Not the Urshlaki," She argued with such certainty that he had no choice but to go along with her, "They are led by their wise woman, Marg Donel. She's nearly 170 years old and has no love for the other tribes' politics, or anyone else's. Marg is also one of the most outspoken abolitionists you could ever meet. Not that that means anything, but this does: when Marg came to power, she ordered that every sword in the tribe be hammered into plows and all war-bows burned. The only weapons they have are suited for hunting and nothing else."

"What about this Zurzanik tribe?" Baurus pressed, once more realizing how correct Martin could be with his guesses. The Emperor clearly knew too much about _some_ of his subjects at least, "What are their leading characteristics?"

"There is not much to tell," Katryn answered after another sip of ale, "As far as I know the Zurzanik have never even been involved in a serious battle with anyone. They stand by during any tribal disputes and none of them have ever joined Morrowind's armies. The only thing they desire is peace and quiet and for their farming and grazing lands to be left untouched."

"And your Marlands? What of them? Wouldn't an unwanted, dishonorable marriage be enough to cause rifts?"

"Certainly, but unless Martin has deceived us all and kidnapped the Ashkhan's daughter, they would not start the fighting," Katryn was shaking her head again as she added, "Honestly, Baurus, I don't think any of these Ashlanders would even allow themselves to be _talked_ into a revolt. Especially not now when Cyrodiil's allies are so loyal. What chance would 3, and it doesn't matter if there are more, tribes have against the might of the Blades and Martin's personal guard?"

Baurus sat back, taking in all he had been told. She certainly had a point if all she said was true, and he didn't have a single reason to doubt her. But she also said that the revolt was highly unlikely, not that it was impossible.

"And you couldn't Martin this because..." He trailed off, arching his brows and clearly wanting her to finish the sentence.

"Because he would not tell me what he wanted," Even she could hear the frustration in her voice and she didn't bother to temper it, "He wanted me to go with him to the palace before he explained further. Why would he tell me that he can't even trust his own men? Is there something more to this than what you have told me?"

Baurus was surprised by this and shrugged his shoulders as he leaned forward to refill his mug.

"I know nothing of that, but being a parent, I can see his point. If your son or daughter was threatened would you trust their safety and well-being to strangers?"

Katryn's initial response to this statement was sheer amusement as she tried to imagine Baurus with a babe in his arms and then sobriety took hold. The Redguard was right. If someone she cherished was in danger, she would want help from friends and not strangers, no matter where their loyalties lay. Her heart began aching for Martin and his desperation making her actually debate, for the first time, on making the trek to the Imperial City. Could she really do that? Could she come back to her peaceful, quiet life here after destroying the walls she had erected between herself and the past? Would Martin stand for letting her return home when all was said and done? And with that thought, she realized why she blindly refused any plea he made. The one fear she had that overpowered all the rest was the uncertainty of what would happen after she was under the same roof of the man she loved so much; the man she had done her best to shatter. Would she be able to keep him at arms' length, or even _want_ to?

"Kat? Is everything alright?"

The Elf shook herself and met Baurus' concerned gaze. Drawing in a breath, she straightened her shoulders and her fingers paled to light blue as she squeezed her mug tightly.

"Not really," She muttered and added, "Can you leave first thing in the morning so I can have some company?"

* * *

Len woke with a start. He lay still, trying to ignore the steady throb of broken ribs and the stiffness in his jaw. The cavern in which he found himself was dimly lit and smelled of woodsmoke and something medicinal, probably one of the many potions his rescuer had forced down him for the past few days. He turned his head a little, wincing in pain, and strained to hear the dust storm. All was quiet except the crackling of the fire and it was then he caught a whiff of roasted meat. His stomach responded viciously and he wondered how long he had been unconscious. The fire in his ribcage prevented him from trying to sit up and he considered briefly where the Nord could have gone. His sharp ears couldn't detect another's breathing and, though he had heard soft whines and growls through his fevered haze, there wasn't a sound from animals either.

He wasn't willing to think even for a moment that the Nord had left him. The idea that a man would risk his own neck to save a practically dead Elf and then not stick around for the well-deserved praise and reward, was a lunatic one. The Elf reached up and tenderly felt his face. It was still puffed and sore and the vision in his right eye was fuzzy, giving everything he looked at a murky brown tint. His sharp pang of fear at the thought his eyesight was permanently damaged was short lived. What he heard that night in the cavern was weighing heavily on him and had already caused several nightmares. He had to warn his emperor; if he failed he might as well be dead. Not that it would be demanded, but his own sense of honor would be satisfied by nothing less. The fears were clawing at him, taking over his fever-weakened brain and the desperation was thick in his heart. He risked the pain in his ribs and grasped the wall to his left, trying to work his way into a sitting position. The fire grew in the broken bones and he unwittingly let out a gasp, freezing in the awkward pose. His head swam as he felt his mouth getting dry; his tongue thick, and he knew that he was on the verge of passing out again. Before he could move to sit up or lay down, the door was unlatched and flung open. The Nord's intimidating form filled the doorway and he looked at Len in shocked surprise.

"Easy now, Kerlan," He said suddenly and came fully into the cavern with a blast of cool, fall wind. Shiel was following and she shook her fur out as she went to her bed. Bhaer dropped the packs from his shoulders and was beside Len's bed, "You're going to undo all my work, lad."

"I... have to... get word..." Len didn't fight with the Nord as Bhaer helped him to lay back down. He felt nauseated and his eyelids closed as he tried to keep unconsciousness at bay.

"To Emperor Septim, I know," Bhaer looked him over critically to make sure that he hadn't set himself back too far in the healing process, "I'll help you, if I can. What message is so important that has to be passed on?"

Len came back to himself and reality slowly but steadily as soon as he was laying flat again and he peered up at Bhaer with some consternation. This man had rescued him from certain death at the risk of running into the two Dunmer and still Len couldn't find it in himself to trust him. What would it matter to this Morrowind Nord if Cyrodiil's leader was dealt such a blow? Bhaer's nomadic lifestyle told Len that he would merely move on to the next best place if war came; that he would have no part of any of it. _So won't he be the perfect one?_ Len tried to ignore that little voice but he couldn't deny the intelligence behind it.

"The emperor's... daughter has been... threatened," He licked his lips and winced, "But it's... a false... warning. Part... of a bigger... plot. I have to... get word to someone."

Bhaer frowned, his brown eyes concerned. It didn't sound any better with Len awake and thinking clearly. With the added problem of the Elf's obvious pain when speaking, it seemed even more far-fetched.

"Who were these people?" Bhaer questioned.

Len took a breath and steeled himself, gathering what strength he could. The mistrust he felt was dispersing and the fact that he had a sympathetic listener was encouraging.

"Cultists; anarchists... take your pick... They plot death... destruction, and their one dream... is to rule the free... world... They don't like the... proposed Nerevar being a Nord," Here he paused with a slight smile and had to wait for his strength to return, "If they succeed... taking Lady Mia... this Nerevar will be... the distraction... but I fear that he will be... blamed if things go awry."

Bhaer was surprised by how coherent Len was. All of this about the Nerevar was ringing true and he had had firsthand knowledge of the unrest concerning this Nord just the day before.

"That could prove to be a very real threat," He replied, "Deryl Lofolk, your Nerevar, is making his progress. He has aligned himself with a retired Blade and all of the signs point to his claim being truth. If what you say is correct, Lofolk could be in very serious danger."


	6. Chapter 6

Katryn's apprehension grew the closer she got to the palace and nothing Baurus or Gozrak said soothed her. She cast another of dozens of black looks at her Orc as they pushed past the late afternoon shoppers and worshipers entering and leaving the Temple District. They still had a little while before they reached the palace and Katryn used these moments to try and compose and distract herself. To her surprise, Baurus had been very understanding with how scattered she might have felt returning and so kept his comments to a minimum. Gozrak, on the other hand...

"Marna should have locked you in the cellar," She said scathingly, hefting her bag further onto her shoulder and flicking her eyes at her surroundings, "This is completely ridiculous."

"It hasn't worked yet, Kat," Baurus cut in mildly, "And I don't think it will."

Katryn's lips parted and Gozrak interrupted her before she could light into him again.

"Take his advice, Gwynyth," The Orc glared darkly at two soldiers who eyed the Elf with pleasure and added, "I'm not going anywhere."

The Elf muttered murderously under her breath in her own tongue. Gozrak was doing what he felt was his responsibility and her anger at Martin was not justification for how she treated him. But honestly, what did he expect? His wife was pregnant for the first time and not feeling well and here was her husband, trailing after Katryn like she was a complete ignoramus. She had been hoping that the fact Baurus was with her would set the Orc's mind at ease enough to keep him home and now she wondered when she had become such a wishful thinker. Gozrak was tied so tightly to her that one would think _they_ were married and Marna's leniency with him didn't help any. She had sympathized with Gozrak's feelings towards Katryn coming here and told him that everything would be fine in his absence. Being an Orc herself meant that she understood well all that went into the bond formed in such a situation.

They were passing through the Elven District and continuing on towards the middle of the City and the palace and Katryn's thoughts were scattered. She hardly saw the architecture of her favorite District and the only thing she could think was: _What the_ hell _am I doing?!_

Baurus noted the slight pursing of her lips and could practically feel her trepidation. Her emotions leaving Anvil had been determined and more than a little one-tracked. She had a job to do and she always gave everything she had to tasks appointed to her, but that was easy for her to feel when they still had a day and half's travel to Skingrad before teleporting to the Imperial City. Now that she was within several hundred yards of the palace and back to what she had run from, her feelings were understandably different. He could only imagine what she was going through. Though Martin's passion for Katryn was never hidden, she had been much more reserved. Only one who knew her well could see that she was in love with him just as much as he was with her and to leave him like she did... It had caused damage that would probably never be repaired. Loving Matti so passionately, he couldn't even consider doing what Katryn had done and his respect for her grew. She had saved the man she loved and probably life as they knew it by destroying her heart and now she was coming back, undoing all that work and causing herself even more pain, to help him again.

They reached the palace much too soon and the guards fell back immediately when they recognized their general. Eyes followed Katryn and her shadow as well with curiousity but though Gozrak was as intimidating as an Orc could be, there was nothing overly impressive about the slender Elf.

The interior of the palace made Katryn's heart twist painfully as the memories flooded through her. The familiar surroundings made her wish, not for the first or last time, that she hadn't come. High marble ceilings gleamed ivory and the walls were covered with tapestries depicting great heroes and battles that were both victories and losses. The sweeping staircase was worn a little through years of wear and Katryn knew each and every room in the place like it belonged to her. Through a wide doorway to their right the fountain was bubbling merrily in the courtyard and the smells of cooking from the kitchen wafted through the hall. A young Imperial girl emerged at the end of the hall past the staircase and her face brightened at the sight of Baurus as she bowed.

"General, the Emperor was wondering when you would arrive," She said cheerfully, clearly not aware of the unrest in the palace's hierarchy. Her blue-grey eyes flickered over Katryn and Gozrak without recognition, "Should I let him know you're here?"

Baurus glanced briefly at Katryn and her shadow. The Elf was visibly trying to calm herself and every muscle in her slight body was tense while Gozrak watched her with a puckered frown. He knew that it would be best for Katryn if they surprised Martin rather than give him time to think too much on her arrival.

"No, Elsa, we'll surprise him," He answered, "Is he in the library? Than we'll go on up. Thanks."

Elsa nodded and disappeared through another door. Baurus didn't look at the two beside him again and instead made his way to the stairs. The long broad hallway was empty and though he didn't have to, he lead the way down the left hand side. Katryn squared her shoulders, holding her head high. She had promised Baurus that she would do what she could to help and she wasn't willing to let her own fears hamper that. The general came to a large, ornately carved door that Katryn recognized at once. He rapped his knuckles on the wood and opened it when a voice called an answer.

Martin stood up from his desk so suddenly that his chair tipped and clattered loudly on the floor. Baurus was hiding Katryn from view but Gozrak's head towered over the Redguard and Martin knew better than to think the Orc would come under his own prerogative. He had to have a damn good reason and the only thing that constituted that anymore was Katryn.

"You wished me luck and it worked," Baurus was saying, stepping aside and waving one hand behind him, "Here they are."

Martin hardly heard him, he had eyes only for Katryn. His Elf was entering the library like she expected attack at any moment. Her burning eyes locked on his and she stopped a few yards from the desk. Martin took her in as though he was seeing her for the first time and couldn't help but think back on the last time he was in this room with her. It had been just the two of them then, without distractions and nothing else in the world had seemed to exist. The Elf's soft accented voice broke through his reveries and brought him crashing back to reality.

"I came to help, Martin, but you have to-"

"Wait, Kat," He held up one hand and came around the desk to stand in front of it, "Get settled first. You must have had a long couple of days. As soon as you are rested, I'll tell you everything. Karl, send someone to prepare rooms for Lady Gwynyth and Folcron Matz," He glanced quickly at the two, never hesitating as he named Gozrak by the Orcs' formal tradition of the father's and middle names, "Unless you already have rooms?"

Before Katryn could berate herself too much for overlooking that simple detail to erect her walls again, Gozrak answered for her. His black eyes were snapping and his voice was much sharper than it needed to be.

"We didn't and I want a room next to hers."

Katryn's cheeks flushed pale blue and she glared at him, part amused flattery and mostly annoyance. The Orc was being ridiculous and she hated his absolute certainty that he would be given whatever he wanted where she was concerned, no matter how absurd and nonsensical.

"I suspected as much," Martin gave Karl a nod and the guard left the room. Katryn silently blessed him for knowing them so well, "Anything you want, you only have to ask. And thank-you, for helping. You have no-"

"Sire," Baurus' formality brought the words to an abrupt end, "It's been a long day. This can wait, can't it?"

Katryn felt amusement overcome her riotous emotions at that. To hear Baurus call Martin 'sire' when his habit was last names only was something she felt was worth laughing at. Especially considering how positively Martin responded. When she had left, he was still their priest and although the younger officers were always formal, none of Martin's closest comrades could even begin to force themselves. Perhaps she would have to make sure Baurus sat in on all the meetings she would have with Martin. Karl's entrance into the room stopped that train of thought.

"Everything has already been prepared, my lord," He said with surprise, "I was told anytime the Lady and Matz are ready, they can be shown to the third floor rooms looking east."

Katryn sent Martin an accusing look only to see that he was just as surprised as his guard. He recovered quickly and nodded while Katryn turned venomous eyes in Baurus' direction. His mock innocent expression made her want to smack him upside the head.

"Very well, thank you, Karl. I'll see them to the rooms."

Baurus smile was maddeningly smug and Katryn fell in beside him. They walked to the third floor staircase and started up. The Elf leaned closer to him.

"Did you avoid being an ass on the trip because of all of this?" She questioned and could hear the fire in her voice, "I would have preferred it the other way around."

"Would you have agreed?" He countered, his black eyes still dancing.

The Elf rolled her own and tried to stay angry with him, but all of her strength was focused on not taking flight from the palace. Butting heads with Baurus was so much easier than doing so with Martin. At least with the Redguard she knew exactly where she stood; she used to know with Martin and anymore...

"No, and that's why you didn't tell me," She spoke with long-suffering and ignored the curious look Martin sent over his shoulder at her, "It is no use, Coll, I know all your tricks."

Baurus laughed with pleasure and, much as he tried to repress it, Martin felt jealousy burn within him. That used to be the two of them and because he missed it so much, he couldn't help his feelings. Katryn had explored every last inch of the palace with him and those weeks they had had to be completely alone were the best moments of his life, memories he would cherish forever. Add to it that his emotions were already in an uproar over his daughter's death threat, this new jealousy seemed asinine. His relief that Katryn was _here_ and promising to help seemed to bring him closer to normal than he had been in the past week and perhaps it was good that he was feeling something so real.

He threw open the door to Gozrak's room when they reached it and waved the Orc forward. The coal black eyes barely took in the furnishings before he glanced questioningly at Katryn. His ward was seeming at ease next to Baurus and her fire colored eyes were burning brightly. She recognized the unasked question and gave a minute nod of her head. Gozrak went into the room without another look and swung his pack onto the bed.

"You're right next door, Kat," Martin announced as they walked the short distance to the next room.

He opened the door for her like he had for Gozrak and stood against it as she walked past him. Baurus followed and went across to the open balcony doors, staring out at the view. Katryn knew what he was doing and her initial irritation passed away like it had never existed.

"If you need anything at all, let one of the guards or serving people know," Martin said from the doorway. Katryn's eyes met his and he was stung by the distrust he saw there, "After supper, we'll meet with a few others and discuss what's to be done."

Katryn gave him a small bow and listened with a heavy thudding in her heart to his retreating footsteps. She turned her attention to her packs, unstrapping them with hands that hardly shook. The bedroom was grand and airy; the bed clothes were finest linens and the heavy curtains at the tall wide windows promised to keep out any drafts. The bedframe and wardrobe were sturdy pieces that had been shipped from Bruma, same with the soft, loop rugs. She unpacked her few outfits, shoving them unceremoniously in the wardrobe and stowing the packs under the bed.

"Is it really that awful being back?" Baurus' voice was gentle and curious.

Katryn straightened slowly, one hand rubbing at her right shoulder. The old wound hadn't like the weight of the pack and the weather change to a cold dampness didn't help any. Nearly 16 years later and it still gave her hell sometimes. Her burning eyes met the Redguard's and told him the story without her having to say a word.

"I just don't like breaking my promises."

* * *

Gozrak was following Katryn so closely they would've collided if she missed a step. Even he felt her exasperation and spoke when she sent him a black look.

"You don't have to do this, Gwynyth."

She let out a sigh and forgot her frustration. They were walking down the hall towards Martin's chambers and her feet seemed to take in lead with each step. The Elf had declined the offer of assistance from the serving girl when the call came to join the meeting. She knew the way probably better than the young Breton herself. She had also turned away the supper invitation, not wanting the awkward response her presence was sure to cause. So she hadn't even had the pleasant distraction that Matti, Naman, or Ami would have been.

"I made a promise," She answered finally as she made a right and proceeded to Martin's door.

"You've already broken one to get here," Gozrak countered, well aware that he might as well be speaking to the wall for all the attention the Elf would pay him. He just couldn't stand seeing her in so much pain, especially knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

She sent him a self-deprecating smile, seeing right through his motives. His presence was a relief in spite of her annoyance with him and she had given up trying to make him leave.

"Time for me to start fresh than, right?" She didn't wait for his answer and rapped her knuckles sharply on the wood.

Expecting a verbal answer, she couldn't help but start a little when the door was pulled open. A guard admitted them with a bow and Katryn lifted her head, straightening her shoulders. Gozrak's admiration grew as she fixed her attention on Martin and ignored the others in the room. She closed her fist over her heart and bowed low, clearly marking the relationship between them.

"Highness," She murmured.

Martin's expression became embarrassed as he got to his feet and took a step forward. He extended one hand towards her and let it fall, his blue eyes flickering uncertainly to Gozrak. The Orc made no move to bow, merely inclining his head. Martin returned this, taking no offense. He appreciated this: always knowing where he stood with the Orc.

"Katryn, I'd like you to meet my daughter," He said as she straightened. One hand was stretched to his right and a girl of about 14 or 15 was stepping forward, "Mia, this is Katryn Gwynyth."

Katryn bowed for a second time and then met the girl's gaze. She was, without a doubt, Martin's daughter. She had her father's straight fine nose and full broad mouth. Her thick, waist length curly hair was just two shades darker than Martin's own and dark black eyebrows were set sharply over startling green eyes. Her luminous pale skin and blade thin, willowy body belonged to her mother and there was something in the set of her mouth that said she could be willful and stubborn, even cruel, if she chose.

"You're the Champion of Cyrodiil?" Mia's musical voice was disbelieving and the way she arched one brow with such arrogance made her look even younger.

"Mia," Martin fixed his daughter with the firm, unblinking stare that Katryn knew so well and his tone was all authoritative warning.

Katryn pulled a face and then couldn't stop the little smile as she inclined her head.

"As shocking as it seems, yes, Lady, I am."

Mia's eyes flickered at that before she observed in a softer tone.

"That was my mother's title."

"And now it belongs to you, love," Martin was looking at Mia with such tenderness Katryn felt her heart twist.

She should not have caused him such pain and despair simply because she didn't want to face her own ghosts. Glancing at Mia again, she saw that the girl was looking at her father, a scowl marring her pretty features. Clearly she didn't believe that anyone had the right to her mother's title, not even someone who had inherited it so completely as she had.

"Martin, if she does not want to be called that, she has all the right to say so," Katryn's soft voice caused his eyes to snap to her.

"Only Uncle Baurus calls Father by his name," Mia's voice was challenging and made Katryn feel as though she was being scolded.

The Elf couldn't help but look around the room at the Redguard with arched brows and amused smile. He was seated next to Steffan and he shrugged comically at her.

"Your father and I have known each other a long time, Princess," Katryn replied, turning her attention back to the girl, "I knew him before he was the Emperor, like Baurus has."

"I know, I've heard the stories."

The Elf did her best not to grimace at this and Martin gave her a way out. He faced Mia fully and spoke jovially, never giving away how worried he had been for the better part of a week.

"All right, my girl," He said, "It's late and you have lessons tomorrow."

Mia tiptoed to kiss his cheek, wished him good night and was herded out of the room by 4 of her waiting women. Martin watched her go before turning back to Katryn and Gozrak. As soon as the door was closed, the mask slipped and he became desperation itself.

Katryn felt her own features soften as their eyes met. The past could not stand in the way of helping him with so dire a situation.


	7. Chapter 7

"She's beautiful, Martin," She said softly, "You are doing the right thing, keeping her in the dark."

"I know, Kat, thanks," His voice was heavy as he turned to the table, "Not everyone agrees with that."

The Elf and her shadow followed. Steffan shook them by the hand, forever calm and aloof while Baurus shifted down a little to make room. There were three other soldiers that Katryn didn't recognize and Martin made introductions.

"Captains Darsk and Stoam and General No'mar; gentlemen, Katryn Gwynyth."

"The woman that needs no introduction," Darsk said cheerfully as he leaned across the table to shake her hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Katryn felt her face flush a little and she waved one hand at Gozrak. The Orc took his place next to her, making her appear even smaller.

"Gozrak Shor'na, my lords."

Darsk had no jovial greeting for the Orc and neither did the other two. Gozrak's black eyes were glittering and the amusement he felt over the men's unease made his expression hard and more than a little imposing. Baurus recognized the glint in No'mar's eyes for what it was and cut in smoothly before the Argonian was given a chance to light into Gozrak.

"Well, Martin, we're all gathered and Katryn has yet to hear the details."

Martin seemed not to have heard as he glanced at the guards posted by the door and gave a single nod. The men bowed and left the room without a word, closing the door behind them. The Emperor looked back at those gathered.

"Right," He said more to himself than anyone though the blue eyes were on Baurus, "It's been nearly two weeks since word reached us and that makes it 2 ½ since the threat was discovered. There's an outpost in northern Morrowind, near Khuul, and their report was that the threat was uncovered and traced to one of 3 tribes: the Urshlaki, Zurzanik, or Marland. So far a move has not been arranged simply because we know so little and there is no guarantee that this is founded on anything. We're taking it seriously because... it's my daughter and I won't allow anything to happen to her."

"No one is grudging you your extra safety measures, sire," Steffan said softly and calm seemed to radiate from him.

Gozrak was quick to note the slight tightening of Darsk's mouth and the nearly imperceptible shift from No'mar. Katryn was the next to speak when Martin didn't continue.

"And no move should be made until more research is done," It didn't perturb her that she suddenly had the attention of almost everyone in the room. She had become the teacher and she knew precisely what she was talking about, "These tribes would have nothing to do with this, Martin. They want nothing to do with politics or war."

"How-" Stoam began.

"She knows," Baurus interrupted.

Martin searched her steady gaze almost frantically as though he was making sure neither she nor Baurus were lying to him. Whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him and he relaxed in his seat with a nod.

"All right, tell me why."

Katryn took no offense at the short command and merely repeated the same information that she had given to Baurus two days ago.

"What prevents them from losing control completely like other tribes?" No'mar asked, his scaly face unreadable, "Everyone has that instinct to rise up when their own are threatened."

"Of course," She agreed, "But it would have to be a severe blow for such a violent reaction and unless you are not telling me something vitally important, none of the tribes would have a reason."

"Kidnapping the Ashkhan's daughter seems to be the most popular," Baurus cut in and his black eyes danced as they met Katryn's.

"I haven't withheld anything, Kat," Martin tried to get them back on track. Baurus was like a child at times and with Katryn sitting in, that side of his nature was even more dominate, "What are you thinking?"

The Elf frowned and one hand reached up to twine a loose strand of hair through her fingers. It was an old habit, one that she had picked up towards the end of her days with the Blades and something that was completely absentminded. Her burning gaze stared into space for a moment while she thought on that.

"I don't know," She said finally and glanced around quickly, "I mean, I certainly have my suspicions. There are only a few reasons why someone would choose one of those three tribes to frame. The obvious ones are other tribes of course and that doesn't make sense. Cyrodiil is more powerful now than it has been in years and any tribe would have to be incredibly desperate or stupid to take her on. Anyone wanting to break the Dunmers would have done their homework and realized that no one would believe any of those three capable of doing this which is what I don't understand. The other option is that this is all a distraction, covering up the actual plan and sending you on a wild goose chase. Has anyone approached the Ashkhans or wise women?"

"No," Stoam was shaking his blonde head and the hazel eyes were almost a little disdainful, "We weren't sure how we would be received with the questions we had to ask."

Katryn inclined her head, conceding the point. She gave the lock of hair a tug and the men could practically see the wheels turning in her brain.

"That was smart. The Urshlaki would have been receptive but the Marland and Zurzanik..." She searched for the right words and then added simply, "There are certain procedures to go through before speaking with them and they would have remained silent about everything if those weren't followed. What about the outpost? Have you spoken to the men there?"

"Just the messenger," Martin answered. His heart had grown cold at the thought of missing the real threat and his voice was taut with worry, "With appointing Mia's guard and watching over her night and day... It hasn't been done."

"Understood," Katryn's tone didn't give away the fact that her heart was twisting at the agony clearly written on Martin's face, "That will have to be done, just to follow up. There may be the chance that someone got one of the tribe names wrong and you can't risk that."

"I thought that was the reason you were brought in," No'mar's voice was taunting and the gold eyes glittered with malice.

The room was suddenly filled with a tense silence. Katryn released the lock of her hair abruptly and let it fall against her shoulder; a growl rumbled in Gozrak's chest as his hands curled into fists and Baurus was glaring at the Argonian in annoyance. It was Martin that deftly brought everything under control.

"Katryn is here as an advisor," He said to the room as a whole though his blue eyes were flashing brilliantly, "Whether she decides to remain and assist us is her decision, not ours."

Something in his tone made Katryn glance sharply at him and wonder what he really did expect of her. When she saw that he was looking at her expectantly, she shrugged her shoulders, forgetting No'mar's challenge.

"I don't really have anything else, Martin. I told you why it can't be those three and now you know why I believe this is a distraction for something else. The other option would be that a Nord is claiming to be Nerevar reborn. In a country teeming with rather fanatic Dunmer intent on keeping the 'old ways', this is blasphemy. It could be possible that the idea is to blame him since these rumors are gathering more and more validity as time wears on."

"Would they be that troubled by this?" Darsk asked.

"Yes," Katryn was so firm they thought twice about arguing with her, "Dunmer have never gotten along well with... well, any other nationalities and knowing their stubborn pride firsthand, they would consider it quite a blow to have someone they consider swine in a position of absolute power over them."

She cast a quick, apologetic look at Stoam who smiled good-naturedly and winked at her. He was beginning to like this little woman.

"Do you suggest I have him watched, then?" Martin inquired knowing that he might be taking on the near impossible. This Nerevar claim, if it was true, would send the Nord all over Morrowind and more often then not, those trips would be made in the dead of night to avoid riots and mindless violence.

"I wouldn't go that far yet, but it is something to keep in mind," She glanced around at them again and then arched her brows, "Was there anything else you needed of me?"

Baurus was yawning, stretching his arms over his head.

"Not me," He replied as he stood, "I have a new guard overlooking the watches and I don't trust him yet. Good night, sire; men; Gwynyth."

With a half bow, he turned away. The other soldiers were standing and Katryn said quite suddenly,

"Gozrak will help you, Baurus. He can make sure your man does things right on his own next time."

The Orc was downright alarmed at this and he looked at Katryn as though she had gone mad. His coal black eyes were searching hers and he opened his mouth to respond.

"Sure, that'd be great," Baurus cut in. He was frowning at the Elf as well but he knew that when she had something up her sleeve, there was no dissuading her, "Come on, Shor'na, let's go scare the hell out him."

"I'll be fine," She told her Orc in an undertone as she inclined her head to the other soldiers, "I know what I am doing."

"No, you don't," Gozrak muttered but her hand was shoving insistently at his back and he slowly left the room with Baurus.

Katryn got to her feet, straightening her shoulders and steeling her nerves as she looked Martin full in the face. The Emperor was watching her steadily, his eyes smouldering, and Katryn knew she would have to make her point fast. She was too vulnerable where he was concerned.

"What gave No'mar that impression?" She asked abruptly.

Martin blinked. He hadn't been sure what he expected her to say and his heart was thudding heavily at the thought that they were alone together, by _her_ doing. Now he felt his hopes crumble and he wondered how angry she was with the whole situation.

"They don't understand why I wanted you," The response was simple enough but it was hard to ignore the blatant truth to it.

"I have to say that I don't either," She allowed her exasperation carry through her words, "Any book, anyone with even the smallest understanding of Dunmer tribes could have told you this and you decided on me. Is there another reason, Martin? Because if so you need to tell me now. I left behind my shop and a town that depends on me, with the promise that I would be back soon. I can't desert them."

Martin got to his feet in one fluid motion and almost winced at her obvious withdrawal from him. Her hands were clasped in front of her and the burning gaze flickered briefly. His blue eyes were shuttered, something that she wasn't used to and it made her uncomfortable, not knowing what he was thinking after months of being so in tune with him.

"I was telling the truth," He said as he paced to the windows and looked out at the night lights of the city. His emotions were raging and he knew that if he got too close to her he was going to spiral out of control no matter what she might say to him, "But now... Kat, it's not that easy."

"It should be," She answered sharply and had to force herself to stay put when he turned back to her. His eyes were blazing with passion and she immediately regretted her decision to corner him now.

"I can't help it," He said heavily and saw how her pulse leapt and her hands grip so tightly that they were turning a very pale blue. Moving forward a couple of steps, he stopped as she moved away, clearly apprehensive, "With you here, it's... it's like the old days. The days when everything was so much simpler. I wouldn't give Mia up for anything but I can't help thinking of how many sons and daughters we might have had."

Katryn inhaled quickly, taking another step back as he stepped towards her. She was berating herself for sending Gozrak out, hating that she willingly placed herself in this position. _Maybe this is what you wanted all along._ A voice in her head mocked. _Maybe your biggest problem was that_ you _couldn't bring yourself to come home._ She tried to banish this and focus on the real problem: that Martin was getting too close to her.

"Martin, please, that was so long ago. I've moved on and you said-"

"I still love you," He interrupted and stopped her short just three yards from the door, "I've always loved you, Kat, you know that."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and felt her heart starting to crack into smaller pieces. _Again? After all this time, all this heartache, do I really have to do it all again?_ She had to get out; she could feel her muscles tightening and her reflexive action was to run. This was exactly what she had been afraid of, but after how easy it had turned out to enter the palace and then this room she had started to believe that everything would be okay, that they could deal with one another and not have these awkward, painful moments. And then, ignoramus that she did indeed end up being, she placed the two of them alone and wondered why things turned on her. Martin's fingers brushed her cheek and she gasped, her eyes flying open. He was right there, the closest he had been in 15 years and his eyes were so tender she was momentarily speechless. His hand wandered down when she didn't stop him and the caress she remembered went over her hammering pulse.

"Kat, oh, Katryn," He murmured hoarsely and bent to kiss her.

The Elf's hands went up to his shoulders and she was pushing him away without remembering to tell her body to do so. He looked down at her through a haze of desire and she was stepping back, trying desperately to keep him at arms' length. Her burning gaze was sorrowful and when she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.

"I told you, Martin, I can't. I am done with this. I'm tired and this is too much," She dropped her hands and took yet another step back, "You asked me for help and I have given you what I could, let me be. I'm going home tomorrow. Tonight I'll stay and I promise I will say good bye before I leave, but let me live in peace, please, Martin."

The Emperor remained motionless, staring at her with so much hurt she almost gave in, and then she straightened her shoulders. She met his gaze squarely and wished her heart wasn't thundering so treacherously. Gripping the neckline of her shirt, she made a small bow.

"With your leave, Highness."

She turned to open the door when he spoke.

"Let me go with you."

The Elf froze, one hand on the door handle and the other tightening in her shirt so that her knuckles were nearly white. She didn't dare turn to look at him and merely cocked her head to one side to show she was listening.

"Is that a command?"

Martin flinched at the trepidation and distaste in her tone and then had to ask himself what he actually meant by that. He had spoken before he even thought about it and now he had hurt her yet again. His gaze went down over her sun bleached hair, slender neck and lithe form and he felt the burning need for her deepen, making him sound even more like an idiot.

"What if it is?"

"I don't believe you," The amusement in her voice produced a steadying effect on both of them and without turning, Katryn was glancing back at him, "Next time, sire, don't act so desperate. It's unbecoming. Good night."

She was gone before he could even begin to think of a response and he found himself agreeing with Mat Fara. Katryn Gwynyth was a master at completely throwing one off a subject.

* * *

Heidl sighed as he went into his study and shrugged out of his heavy cloak. One would think that Ald'ruhn and the surrounding desert areas were always too hot, but they never had visited in the fall and winter. The cold night air was creeping and pinching at him and he felt the old inflammation in his lungs flare up again. The fire had been reduced to embers and he knelt to stoke life into it once more before he thought of lighting any of his oil lamps. It was a pity that his help never stayed anymore. Once rumors got around that he was too interested in necromancy and the more unsavory aspects of it, no one was brave enough to stick around to find out the truth. The flames leapt from dying coals and began to lick eagerly at the dry wood he carefully piled.

"Thank you, Heidl," A voice spoke from the darkness and made him jump to his feet, whirling to face the room, "We would've had it ready for you, but we weren't sure if we wanted to give away our presence so soon."

Heidl suddenly recognized the voice and felt his shoulders relaxing. The strengthening fire was giving the room more light and he wasn't sure how he had missed Nema Bargth where she was leaning against his desk, her Dremora in the shadows to her right.

"I didn't expect you to speak before you paid me back for blowing your cover the other night," He replied drily.

Nema shrugged her shoulders and her pale eyes were gleaming in the flickering light. The Dremora was grinning evilly and Heidl chose to ignore him.

"I considered it for a while and then realized this would be much more effective," She replied as she balanced an ancient letter opener between her long fingers.

Heidl hid his curiousity while he lit one lamp after another, bathing the room with light from all half dozen of them. There had to be a very good reason for Nema to risk more exposure to come and see him, add to it she was actually here to give him a warning of sorts. Her lopsided features were exaggerated in the flickering lights and he arched his brows at her as he decided that he wasn't about to give in to her games.

"I am glad you have changed your mind."

"Do not get too comfortable, it hasn't been a full transformation," Nema tossed the letter opener aside carelessly and noted his poorly concealed wince, "Your men are fools. They let that spy walk free."

Heidl frowned at her, not understanding. Most men were fools, what did his own have to do with anything?

"Spy?" He didn't like having to ask for clarification, but he didn't have a choice.

"That Altmer that skipped out the other night after your rousing speech. Two men followed and should have killed him but apparently that was too much to ask," Nema shoved away from the desk and the near white eyes were malicious in the fire light, "I originally told Yvex we would let you find out on your own but... plans have changed."

Heidl allowed a smile that was less than encouraging. His hazel eyes flickered with disdainful amusement and he paced to his window, looking out towards the lights of Ald'ruhn.

"And you came running to tell me because you have had a change of heart about the cause?"

As he thought, his words had an adverse effect on both his unwanted guests. Nema let out a hiss like an angry cat and the Dremora's hand flew to his hip.

"Don't be ridiculous," Nema snapped, forcing herself to ignore that sting, "You have alternative plans that will give you a bigger piece of this pie and we want to be involved."

The Bosmer's face was impassive. He knew Nema was beating around the bush. There was more to her complete change of heart and that made the wheels in his head whir crazily. She was right in her guess, he did have alternative plans, ones that would be much more effective and the 'rousing speech' was merely to get others to follow.

"It's to do with the barbarian, isn't it?" Nema's words could hardly be considered a question and her sharp gaze was fixed on his face, "Blaming the death of Septim's daughter on him will be much more effective if you ask me. Which means that the others are merely being used as collateral. It was really quite simple to figure it out, Heidl, and in return for our promise of silence we want full payment."

"Always on the lookout for number one, eh, Bargth?"

Nema could plainly see that they had successfully pegged the Bosmer and her grin was frighteningly evil. Heidl couldn't talk his way out of this one and the fact that she had perfectly gambled everything was euphoric. The Nord was making progress with the Nerevar business and in all likelihood, the Ashlanders would follow after him, including Nema's own. Which meant that she would be free to strike the ultimate blow against them.

"It is the only way to live."

* * *

Katryn wasn't surprised to see both Gozrak and Baurus in her room when she stalked through the door. The passions Martin had stoked to life again had quickly simmered into furious anger. Knowing the whole episode was more her fault than his made her fury even more poisonous and when Baurus gave her a smirk, her gaze flared hotly.

"Well, Gwynyth, did you get some things off your chest and out into the open?" He questioned as his eyes danced. The Redguard knew exactly what he was doing. Katryn would need an outlet for her frustration and anger and he was willing to become her target.

"Go home to your wife," She snapped as she paced to the windows and saw rain was now coming down in steady sheets.

Gozrak was looking worriedly at her and saw that her cheeks were flushed pale blue. Her pulse was strong and her fire colored eyes were cloudy, a clear sign she was upset and trying not to show it. The tone of her voice was at odds with the obvious attempts to calm herself and the Orc was immediately on the defensive, wondering if he would have to bash heads and pull arms off.

"What happened, Kat?" He asked and his concerned tone was as soothing as Baurus' was infuriating.

She snorted slightly and shook her head as she leaned forward and gripped the windowsill. Her knuckles were turning even more pale and visions of Martin's passionate response to her words were flashing in her head. His tender caresses were making her knees weak even with him two floors above her and she spoke again so she could have a different focus.

"Exactly what you think. Relax, Gozrak, I will let you know when I want you to kill him."

"Do you feel better now at least?" Baurus cut in. He was relaxed against her bed and he ignored the death looks he was sent by both.

"Him, on the other hand?" The Orc asked, his voice a growl.

Katryn arched her brows at Baurus and turned from the window to look at him fully.

"Anytime."

The Redguard chuckled and saw that he was gaining at least some ground. Katryn crossed the room to the bed and bent, dragging her recently emptied pack from beneath. She flopped it down beside Baurus and then began pulling her clothes out of the wardrobe. The general watched without saying a word until she returned to the bed and began stuffing the clothes inside the bag. Instantly he was on his feet beside her and closing his hand around one slender wrist.

"Kat-"

"I told him this time," She interrupted and tugged at his hold to no avail, "He has been given fair warning and knows why I'm leaving. Yes, the truth."

Baurus' gaze was unreadable and Gozrak was frowning. The Redguard still hadn't released her and she didn't like how judgmental the black eyes had become.

"What are you talking about, the truth?" Gozrak demanded, "What's going on, Gwynyth?"

"I left him all those years ago, Gozrak, and now I have to do it again," She said simply, never looking away from Baurus and wondering why his disappointment hit her so much harder than Martin's, "We're leaving tomorrow morning. I have done all I can here."

"You don't believe that," The Redguard argued quietly. His fingers were still gripping the soft skin and he could feel the hammering of her pulse.

Her gaze was desperate when she looked at him and he wondered exactly what Martin had done to her. She pulled at him again and when he merely tightened his hold, she seemed to deflate. Her face took on that lost expression she had had when Martin stormed out of her barn that night and her shoulders slumped.

"I don't know anymore, Baurus," She murmured and wanted nothing more than to get away, "I just... I just needed to get away from him. He is making this... No, that's not fair. _I'm_ making this too hard, on both of us. But... I can't."

The Redguard sat on the bed again and tugged her down beside him as Gozrak hovered nearby. Baurus was looking closely at her face but her eyes were dry and her chin set stubbornly. It would not be easy to convince her this time and he knew there was going to be no way around those painful and still very tender subjects.

"Sleep on it at least, Kat," He said mildly, tempering his tone to make it more cajoling, "Don't make a decision until you have had a good night's rest and then talk to me before you leave. Please, don't leave him when you're both so pissed off."

Katryn let out an exasperated sigh and met his gaze. Without saying a word, she reached out and pushed the pack off her bed. It landed on the floor with a dull thud and amazingly didn't tip. Gozrak's frown deepened but Baurus' relief was encouraging and he decided that maybe this would work out after all.

"You are a damn nuisance, Coll," The Elf muttered and finally managed to free her wrist.

"And that's why I mean so much to you."


	8. Chapter 8

She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, pulling at her hairpins in agitation. The thick brown locks cascaded nearly to her waist and she flipped them over her shoulders in annoyance. Her burning gaze went to Baurus and she almost snapped at him for the too apparent admiration she saw in his face. Instead she ignored it, knowing Gozrak would be less than impressed and told him bluntly,

"It's not going to make a difference, Baurus. My presence here-"

"Has made him relax for the first time in two weeks," The general was clearly expecting this, "I'd give it up."

"Why didn't you tell me, Kat?" Gozrak questioned and surprised them with how hurt he sounded.

The Elf's face softened instantly and she seemed to forget her anger with Baurus.

"Well, Gozrak, I-"

A sudden knock sounded on the still partially open door and in a reflex move, Baurus called an answer. Martin's tall form was in the doorway and another man just inches shorter was standing behind him. His dark blue cape was dripping onto the marble floor and in one hand was a soaking cap that had once covered reddish-brown hair which was becoming more salt and peppered with age. Eyes the color of pale honey went over Katryn with a tender expression.

"Toben?" She said incredulously, happier to see him then she usually would have been, needing a distraction more than anything, "What are doing here?"

"I wish I could say for you," The Breton replied, oblivious to Martin's sudden chilled stiffening, Katryn's embarrassment and Baurus' amused grin, "But I'm afraid I'm bringing some bad news."

His gaze moved to Gozrak who straightened himself instantly, his black eyes flickering.

"What is it?" He asked and Katryn was sure she was the only one who could distinguish the worry there.

"It looks like everything will be fine, Gozrak, but Marna has had some complications," Levin was speaking calmly, his voice soothing. Spending the past dozen years with Katryn had given him a firsthand look at how quickly the Orc could snap from a dead calm to killing rage.

"Complications?" Gozrak repeated, never looking away from the Breton, "What kind of complications?"

"The baby was giving her some trouble and she got right over to Kes'la. Normally she'd never interfere with any of this," Levin waved a hand towards Katryn, "And she didn't want to bother you but I insisted. She'd feel better if you were home."

"I'll leave right away," Gozrak brushed by Martin as though he wasn't there and disappeared down the hall to his room.

Katryn understood his reaction for what it was and she watched him go with an expression of pure affection. Marna was his life now and if anything were to happen to her, Katryn didn't know what the Orc would do. The Elf didn't realize that Levin had turned his attention to her and was studying her closely. It had been a little over a year since he had seen her last and it felt like an eternity. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and even longer than he remembered. The lines around her eyes and mouth were more prominent with her worry over Gozrak and Marna and on impulse he was crossing the room with long, quick strides and pulling her into a hug.

Katryn felt her face flame but before she could act on that, she got a hold of herself and was returning the embrace. It had nothing to do with trying to hurt Martin or amuse Baurus even further. She was truly fond of Levin, he was one of her dearest friends, and it had been a long time since they had seen one another.

The sharp stab of jealousy and desire that pierced him nearly overwhelmed Martin. He ignored Baurus' calculating look and studied his hands. The sight of Katryn in another man's arms, Toben Levin of all people, and with an expression of utter contentment where she had pushed him away was too much. And he didn't care how innocent the embrace was.

"You left before I got a chance to see you," The Breton was saying as Katryn pulled away.

"I know. Baurus had to get back the next day and Gozrak and I decided to accompany him," Katryn spotted her Orc coming back into the room and her features softened into a warm smile.

Levin knew it wasn't a smile for him but still he felt his heart leap and he made himself glance at Baurus so he wouldn't stare.

"How are you, Coll?"

"Never better," Baurus answered cheerfully, "You?"

"Going through hell trying to sort out the most recent disputes."

The Redguard grinned. Levin was now general of the Guard at Kvatch and the responsibilities weren't just overwhelming, they were maddening.

"You can't make everyone happy," He replied and turned his attention to the room.

"Anything you need, Gozrak, don't hesitate to ask, please. I mean it," Martin was saying.

Gozrak gave him a half bow, his eyes flickering though his face remained impassive.

"Thank you. Hopefully it won't come to that but it is greatly appreciated."

Martin extended his hand and the Orc grasped it firmly. In that instant, every slight was forgotten. Gozrak knew that Martin would not make an offer like that flippantly and words failed him in expressing his gratitude. He glanced at Katryn who was standing staunchly at Baurus' side.

"You're staying," It wasn't a question and though he clearly didn't like the situation, he wasn't willing to force it.

Katryn's eyes met Martin's and locked on. He had hurt her, yes; with both actions and words, but she had hurt him, too. And what was more, she had promised to stay at least for the night: not only once but twice. She couldn't go back on her words, not again. Martin was looking at her with such desperate hope that the mere consideration made her feel guilty.

"I made a promise," She said and forced herself to look at her Orc, "I should be home in a few days. Tell Kes'la to use whatever she needs from my stores. I've already told her what potions Marna was taking," Impulsively, she was stepping forward and hugging Gozrak, "Take care of all three of you and I will be back soon."

Gozrak was through the door and striding down the hallway while Levin spoke to Katryn once more.

"I'll go with him and make sure everything will be all right," He reassured her.

"Take care of him," The Elf murmured, resting one hand on his arm, "Don't let him do anything stupid."

"I won't," He hugged her a last time, "I'll see you when you get home."

* * *

"You have to tell me everything," Len demanded in a voice that was growing stronger by the moment.

Bhaer looked at him with that eternal patience the Altmer was very used to seeing. Between the two of them, Len had managed to be propped up on the pillows and was now reclining almost comfortably. If not for the look of pinched pain around his mouth, he would have pulled it off beautifully. The eyelid of the right eye was still drooping and the murky brown tint that everything had taken on was not getting better, but he had more pressing issues.

"There isn't much to tell," The Nord answered as he ladled the stew into two bowls and handed one over to the Elf, "Like I said, Lofolk's claim is becoming more and more grounded. He has had success with his first trials and those in power are taking an interest in him, though they would never publicly appear to. What I have heard about him being framed for the young lass' death came from someone who had had too much to drink so I didn't take it that seriously."

"And now you know... how important it could be," Len couldn't stop the catch in his voice as he shifted and felt his ribs protest violently, "If this man is the Nerevar and they succeed in blaming him, Morrowind could be lost forever. The Morrowind that we know now and when it's all revealed to be a hoax, Cyrodiil will never recover."

"Meaning that things will go back to being just as uncertain and volatile as they were when you all were hunting down those cultists," Bhaer was catching on and he didn't like the picture that was being painted. He had long ago given up his fighting days and he had no wish to go back. This nomadic life suited him and everything would be made more difficult if what Len was predicting came true, "That won't be good for anyone, lad."

Len could barely bring himself to eat the meal. His brain was working frantically and the need to do something was stronger than ever.

"So you realize the urgency. I need... someone needs to get word to the City... We have to give them warning."

Bhaer reached over and gently pushed Len back into the pillows. The Altmer was overdoing it and his face was growing pale. The breathing that had been calm was hitching again and the Nord knew he was going to hurt himself.

"Eat, Kerlan," He said and nudged the bowl closer, "Keep your strength or you won't be any use to anyone."

"You don't understand-"

"No, I don't, but I'm trying. You've got to help me by staying coherent here so that whoever we give this message to will believe it. Now, eat."

Len couldn't argue with that and though despair and frustration were still coursing through him, he did as he was told and picked up the bowl.

"Do you have someone you can trust?" He asked and found that he was suddenly ravenous.

Bhaer was quiet and thoughtful. In reality the answer was no. He didn't really have anyone he trusted and hadn't for a long time, unless one could count Shiel. But he knew this would merely make the Elf even more anxious and he decided on a vague answer.

"I'll track someone down."

"So in the meantime we just have to wait?" Len apparently didn't need any of Bhaer's help to make him anxious, he was doing a fine job on his own, "What happens if-"

"I'll find someone," For one of the few times the Nord's voice became sharp and his dark brown eyes flashed briefly before he regained control, "There's another storm gathering and the temperatures are dropping severely. Your Nerevar will have to keep his head and avoid serious confrontations on his own for a while."

Len's pale green eyes were worried and he glanced at the door to the cavern. So much could happen in the time span of one of the dust storms and to add snow on top of it... He shuddered, not wanting to think of what would happen if the princess was stolen during that time. Nothing could be done at that point and it was not an outcome he was willing to consider. Because Morrowind would not be the only one lost; Cyrodiil would soon follow and after years of relative peace and calm, life as they knew it could become a nightmare.

* * *

Katryn and Baurus stayed up long after Gozrak and Levin departed and since Martin wisely didn't stick around either, they were given the opportunity to talk about everything that had happened. Baurus managed to peg her once again with a promise to stay until morning and by the time he left to go home, the Elf was even more reclusive and thoughtful than usual.

The Redguard knew she was coming up with something and he wasn't able to discover it until that next morning. He breakfasted with his family and kissed Matti good bye, ruffling the twins curly black hair before he left for the palace. Katryn was still in her room when he asked for her and he went up unannounced. The Elf was fully dressed and there was a barely touched platter of food on the small table. Her dark brown hair was draped over her shoulder in a long braid and the fire colored eyes were tired but bright. He knew instantly she had gotten an idea.

"Good morning," She greeted.

"You're thinking of something," He observed and settled on the bed. Her pack was open and waiting and all of her things had been stowed away, "What is it?"

She looked amused as she drew back the curtains and then made a face at the grey, cloudy sky.

"You know me too well and yes, I have thought of something," She moved to the bed and stopped at her pack, pulling a long slender object from it, "I think I always knew what I would end up doing here and it really is very practical when you consider it."

"Do you mind telling me what _it_ is?"Baurus questioned, recognizing the sword for what it was almost immediately. He was beginning to catch on to her thought process and wasn't sure it was something he should be happy with or not.

"I was thinking about what I told Martin last night, about sending someone to check at that outpost," She met his gaze squarely and looked exactly like the old Katryn, "I'm going to offer. Stoam had a good point; Imperials, Bretons, anyone but a Dunmer would have a hell of a time getting any questions answered by the tribes. You could teach someone of course but if time is of the essence, it makes more sense to send one that already knows the intricacies."

Baurus listened silently, his black eyes never leaving her face. He knew she was right, as usual, and there was a light in her eyes that told him just how much she missed all of this. Not that he blamed her. He would love the extra time with Matti and the boys but he would end up driving himself crazy, and his wife to leave, if he did nothing but sit at home and fidget.

"I agree," He said finally and was pleased to see he had surprised her.

Her brows inched up and her lips parted. Fingers curling around the hilt of her milky white sword, she tipped her braid behind her with her free hand and then studied him in confusion.

"That's it?" She asked, "No arguments, no telling me this is a ridiculous, stupid thing to do?"

"I'm not Shor'na, Gwynyth, and yes, for the record, I do think it's a bad idea. It's dangerous and I don't think those men at the outpost are to be trusted. But I also know that I won't be able to talk you out of this."

"You're smarter than you look," She answered ruefully and replaced the short sword.

"I'm full of surprises," His gaze turned speculative and there was a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "Besides I'm not the one you have to convince."

She grimaced as she crossed to the table and sipped at her coffee. She knew Martin wouldn't like this idea and she was fully prepared for that. Her battles with him had always been carefully chosen and she was willing to gamble with this one. What was more, she had full confidence and the knowledge that it would work well on her side.

"I know, and he will explode, but it will be for the best, Baurus. It concerns the well-being of his daughter, he'll listen."

The Redguard nodded. Martin was ten times more likely to listen to Katryn than anyone else and if she was willing to exploit that, then that was her decision. Besides she would be doing so trying to help and Martin would be powerless against it.

* * *

"You want to what!?" Martin exclaimed, completely forgetting that he was taking a seat and straightening so suddenly he almost ran into the desk.

Katryn remained standing, ignoring Baurus' 'I told you so' look and squaring her shoulders. To be fair, this wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting but she had certainly succeeded in rendering him speechless.

"It would be better this way," She said calmly, "True, I won't have the privileges one of your men would have but the Ashkhans and wise women will speak freely with me."

"And the men at the fort will-"

"They will respect a former Blade and Champion of Cyrodiil," The interruption caused the guard at the door to send her a dour look but he kept his mouth shut when Baurus shook his head at him, "I may hate that title but I am not above using it for my own gain."

Martin began pacing, his mind working frantically. It was hard not blaming himself for Katryn's sudden rash decision. He had asked her to come and help and here she was, doing all that and more, risking her own neck to protect him and his own... again. Visions of all the terrible things that could happen to her kept flooding his brain and he couldn't bring himself to stop them. They were fuel for his anger and anger was going to be the most effective dealing with her.

"Those soldiers would be less than receptive of a woman, Kat," He said slowly, choosing his words with care, "It would be best if you had someone with you."

"If that's the case, I will simply tell them I am there to gather more information."

"Without appearing suspicious, of course," Baurus cut in, "I'm guessing you won't be calling Gozrak back to the front?"

Martin's blue eyes fixed on Katryn who hesitated for the first time since walking into his library. She couldn't lie. Not only did she hate it, he would see right through her and it would make him even angrier.

"No, he needs to focus on Marna and the baby. I don't want him in on this one," She spoke firmly, leaving no room for arguments.

"I'll appoint someone to accompany you," The Emperor replied and the authority in his voice matched hers.

"I would have more luck if I go alone," Katryn argued, her burning eyes flashing up brilliantly

"I don't want you _doing_ this alone," He snapped back.

His voice had become even more commanding and the Elf felt her hackles rise. He had every right to order her to hell if he chose but she wasn't about to let him get the upper hand here, not this time. She was ready to rage back at him and then a sly expression crossed her features and she clenched her teeth briefly as she calmed herself. Baurus recognized that look and out of the corner of her eye, Katryn saw him grimace at her. She spoke before he could cut her off.

"I came here as an advisor, my lord, I'll go to Morrowind as an advisor. You can't argue that that explains everything," She saw Martin's wince before frustration and anger set in and she pushed further, "I will appear less suspicious if I go alone. You can't give your men the impression that you don't trust them, sire, by sending a whole troop."

"She's right, Martin," Baurus observed before Katryn could go too far with the formality that hurt the Emperor far worse than her open rage. Martin's own anger was turned on him as he added, "They would consider it insulting if you sent more than a few just to follow up."

Martin was in the position of complete power over both of these people and he had never felt more cornered. He had always hated saying no to Katryn even when doing so saved her life and he was helpless against her logical explanation for having her do this and no one else. He wasn't a fool, he knew what she was capable of, but by the gods!... this was the woman he had fallen in love with, was still mad about and he _had_ to worry about her. And then again, he couldn't demonize her for trying to help him which was what he had wanted all along. Powerless to stop any of their plans, he couldn't help but add childishly,

"It wasn't going to be a troop."


	9. Chapter 9

Katryn pushed the wool scarf closer to her neck and hurried across the frozen mud to the guarded man-door of Khuul's Cyrodiil run outpost. The farthest north she'd ever been on Morrowind's west coast was Gnisis, 20 miles south, where the weather was even more miserable. A freezing rain was pelting the ground and everything on it and the burly Orc guard was reluctant to move away from the barrel where his fire was crackling merrily.

"State your business," He said gruffly, his accent only slightly less watered down than Gozrak's.

Katryn inclined her head and slid one hand into the inside pocket of her heavy cloak to grasp Martin's written orders.

"Hlara Kenslin, my lord, an advisor to Emperor Septim," She spoke fluidly and showed him the orders so he could see Martin's bold signature and unmistakable seal, "I must speak with General Bevlian."

The Orc studied her very briefly after looking cursorily at the orders and then motioned with one hand. Instantly the door behind him opened and another soldier stepped into view, making Katryn realize that she must have been watched from at least halfway down the road. The new man waited patiently, eying her with obvious pleasure as the Orc went through his process of clearing her.

"Very well, Lady," He said and she could hear all the contempt he had for women in those three simple words, "Any weapons?"

Katryn blessed her intuition that had made her leave behind the short sword and bow and arrows at the inn, but it was a wrench to turn over the fine, Elf-make knives that had been Gozrak's birthday gift several years ago. The Orc stowed them away and waved her past him and the young Breton ushered her through the door. He was all too eager to lead her by physical contact and she dropped to the formal step behind him and refused to speak. Taking the hint, his expression become shuttered and he satisfied himself by taking a position where he could watch her avidly.

The Elf saw instantly why Baurus and Martin did not trust these men. There were no women warriors that most other outposts had and the courtyard was bare and disheartening. The men that were milling about had cold hard expressions. Deeply shadowed eyes watched her walk with pinched looks of hunger and malnutrition. The armor was scuffed and dirty and the stubble on their faces surprised her. Martin and Baurus allowed the two extremes: either clean shaven or a full beard, there was no sloppy middle ground.

Her escort pulled open a worn, rather dilapidated wood door and led her up the steep flight of stairs. He knocked on the last door at the end of the hall and opened it when an answer was called. Katryn followed behind the Breton, looking around curiously. For as run down as the rest of the place was, here was all the opulence that the wealth of the Imperial City offered. The windows were draped heavily, the tousled bed had the finest linens and the meal on the table was hearty. There were several pitchers of ale and the rich expensive rugs were littered with chicken and ham bones. Two wolf hounds that reminded her sharply of Hecter eyed her suspiciously and their soft growls made the broad shouldered man at the windows turn to her. His face was sharply featured with the high forehead and aquiline nose that betrayed some Altmer heritage. Thick black hair curled about his sea-green eyes and his beard was trimmed perfectly. Both traits made the skin appear even more golden, another Altmer trait.

"Lady Hlara Kenslin, my lord," The Breton murmured with a bow and then immediately retreated from the room.

Katryn forced herself not to smile as she realized the boy was even more interested in her than she originally thought. He had to have been standing very close to the door indeed to hear her name, which was yet another thing to remember. She had decided, after arguments posted by both Baurus and Martin, that the 'Champion of Cyrodiil' may be a little too much to use here. And then there was her own abhorrence for it and the groveling it tended to encourage. So she settled on her mother's and grandmother's middle names and so far, no one had recognized her for who she really was.

The general was looking at her expectantly and she stepped forward, giving him the orders and waiting with clasped hands while he read them. His sea-green eyes, so startling in the bronzed face, met hers with open bemusement.

"My lord Emperor wants another report on this case?" He asked and his voice was sharp and demanding.

"Yes, my lord," Katryn answered demurely. Her quick eyes had taken in the room when she was first admitted and she had spotted a young Imperial at the desk in one corner, "Perhaps it would be possible for me to question your scouts while your clerk writes another? The Emperor thought maybe if someone wrote everything down once more it might jog something loose from the memory and give us a few more details."

"Well, I would certainly like to help in any way I can, my lady," He answered and his eyes flickered so Katryn knew he was doing some very quick thinking, "I wish with all my heart you could speak with those scouts, but I'm afraid it's impossible."

Katryn wondered at the sugary sweet note he had taken on and her suspicions were roused. He had transferred seamlessly from cold formality to complete willingness and she didn't like it.

"Impossible, General?"

"Yes, quite," He walked to the table and set the orders down before he faced her again, "You see, the two men that made the discovery were following up and I'm sorry to say that the tribes reacted rather violently. A few rogues ambushed them and they were killed. We haven't been able to verify yet if the murderers were deserters from the tribe or acting on orders."

The Elf watched his gaze flicker slightly and behind him, the young clerk jerked his head up in surprise, staring at his general. Immediately, as though he knew he was giving away too much, the Imperial lowered his head again and continued scribbling on the parchment in front of him. Katryn's mind began working rather frantically, bouncing from one thought to the next and she decided on baiting both men a little more. It was clear the general would give as little away as possible and he was quite good at it, while the other wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"I am sorry for your loss, sir. Perhaps I could be of some use to you. I am fluent in Elvish and I know the traditions of some of these more primitive tribes. I could go and follow up for you. The Emperor is rather desperate, you understand?"

"Of course," Bevlian said simply and he stepped forward, almost looking like he would reach out and pat her head or shoulder like he would a well-behaved child, "But maybe my master wouldn't want to risk losing such a devoted subject such as yourself? Leave these matters of wars and violence to us, my lady, we'll see that Emperor Septim will receive all the news we gather."

Katryn clearly saw that she was being dismissed and she sent one last quick look at the clerk to see he was listening furiously, even forgetting to pretend to write. She inclined her head and then met his gaze again.

"Certainly that will be the best," She agreed and pushed a little further, "Would you permit me to come back again, General, and speak with the men that knew your scouts best? Just in case something was passed on to them before they were killed?"

Bevlian's eyes were flickering for the third time, that tell-tale trait he didn't like what she offered. It made it obvious to her she would most certainly not be welcomed back and that questions about anything were a taboo here.

"Anything for the Emperor," He said finally and she knew he was lying.

"My thanks to you, sir," She bowed, "I shall tell our Emperor of your willingness."

One hand waved rather imperiously to the door and Bevlian said with cool formality,

"Scout Nelzo will escort you out again and I am sorry that I couldn't be of more help."

Katryn inclined her head and felt her thoughts flood with curiousity at how easily she might get word to Baurus or Martin about the obvious deception here. Her flaming eyes met his green as he stepped forward to usher her out.

"You have been a great help, General," She murmured, "And that is why I would like to stop and speak again tomorrow. The Emperor was very firm on that point. You must understand he is merely hoping to draw out any particulars from the threat that may have been forgotten."

Bevlian's face tightened and he pulled the door open with more force than necessary.

"Of course I understand, Lady," The general tacked on the last bit absentmindedly and his former oily, eager-to-please demeanor was rapidly fading, "I just don't see the point. There's nothing more to tell. Nelzo!"

The young man appeared down the hallway from them and Katryn felt relief that he hadn't been eavesdropping this time. She was going to need him.

"My lord?" He answered quietly, assuming a subservient posture that clashed with his mutinous eyes.

"Show Lady Kenslin out," The general swept her yet another bow and disappeared into his quarters.

"This way, Lady," Nelzo said and the admiring gleam in his gaze returned.

She fell in behind him and didn't speak until they were out in the courtyard, well away from the doorway. Her eyes went around surreptitiously as she spoke,

"I am sorry for your loss, soldier. Losing two comrades so violently, it must be hard."

As she had suspected and hoped, Nelzo frowned at her, clearly not understanding.

"Our loss, Lady?"

"The two who were killed by the tribal Dunmer. Your general was telling me they were the two who discovered the threat on the Princess' life," Her eyes fixed sharply on him. He was doing some very quick thinking and she knew she was on the right track here, "It is a sad thing; honorable that they died protecting the throne, but sad. Did you know them?"

"No," He answered, too quickly. Grimacing when he realized it, he tried too late to recover, "No, my lady. I am a junior officer. I knew them in passing only. I couldn't even tell you their names."

Katryn recognized the fear in his eyes and she quit her pushing. The way he distanced himself so adamantly was yet another glaring discrepancy. Not an admission of guilt by any means, just something that the Blades' code had never allowed. Jauffre especially made sure that each soldier within one faction of the Blades' army knew their superior officers and it would be considered unforgivable for even one outpost to go against that long-held practice. It made Katryn wonder what else these men were hiding.

The Orc at the door handed her knives back rather grudgingly and permitted Katryn to leave the fort and walk into the night. The freezing rain had softened into snow and the Elf tugged her cloak closer to her neck, pulling her hood up. Her fingers fastened the inside buttons and gave her body the peculiar illusion that she didn't have any arms. She trudged through the drifting snow and let her eyes adjust to the growing dark. Night would fall completely before she reached the inn and she hadn't thought to bring any torches along. Not that she would have needed them, her eyes were as good as ever in the dark.

Once more she found her thoughts wandering towards letting the palace know about the conditions at this outpost. She would have to do something. The men's gaunt faces and obvious malnutrition were not things to be ignored and her own compassion for them wouldn't allow her to do so. Bevlian was clearly doing well and not in any way wanting for money, there was no reason for the men to be so rundown and ill-treated. Of course, she _had_ to tell Martin of the secrecy; the attempts to keep her from finding out exactly what had happened with the scouts and Dunmer tribes. There was no one here she could trust with that message, a hand written one would take too long to reach him and she wasn't about to return to the City and confront him while he had his wits about him. For all Baurus' adamant proclamations that the Emperor was powerless against her, Katryn knew how those roles could be reversed, oh so easily. The Elf had never been one to sway under another's influence and that was why it was such a shock to discover Martin's own very strong influence. No one else could have enticed her into the Gutted Mine or Sancre Tor and she could admit with free and deep venom that jumping into Camoran's Paradise after him was one of the _stupidest_ things she'd ever done. Again Baurus' face flashed before her, black eyes dancing as she could hear his voice asking her just _why_ she did all those things. _Love hurts, huh?_ She sighed miserably. Of course it hurt. It caused a pain unlike anything else and she thought maybe, bit by bit, she was going mad. Honestly, how many other people allowed _thoughts_ of a friend get the better of them?

Suddenly she realized that she had been too deep in her thoughts. Several paces behind her she heard the crunch of boots on the fallen snow. Without slowing her pace, she loosened her knives at her belt and cocked her head slightly. Frowning, she came to a complete stop but didn't turn. Whoever was following her clearly wanted her to know; the steps came carefully enough to attract just the right amount of attention. Add to it, as soon as she stopped so did the other, noisily.

"Speak, I'm listening," She said softly to the darkness, still not turning.

"You were asking questions," Her follower obviously knew she was an Elf; he was still yards from her but was well aware that she could hear his murmur, "It would be prudent to stop."

Katryn remained silent, taking in the words. He wasn't the threat here. If he was, he would have tried long ago to dispatch her and if he was really smart he would've done so when she was distracted with her thoughts. At least then he would have had a fighting chance and maybe the last chance he'd ever have to do anything. So naturally, she had to discover why he was hiding.

"I've never had much luck with being prudent," She admitted wryly, "Who do I have to fear?"

"Your kind of questions are never welcome."

"That does not answer _my_ question. You've come all this way to simply warn me?" She wanted desperately to understand his motives, "Why not go one step further? You know what I was asking. Bevlian was lying. What is he trying to hide?"

There was a silence but Katryn knew he was still there. She would have heard any retreat. He drew in a breath and released it slowly, like he was steeling himself.

"I know who you are, the only one, I'm sure. But you're still in danger," He shifted where he was crouched and added, "Lady Gwynyth, Bevlian is a dangerous man. Don't push him."

Katryn blinked, allowing the shock of the man's recognition flood her. That was the last thing she'd expected and she thought back on the men at the fort. None of them had looked at her, knowing who she was. Everything could be destroyed if the wrong ones found out it was the Emperor's champion asking all these questions.

"You flattery me, sir," She answered finally and kept her voice even and cool, "To confuse me with-"

"I know you," He interrupted with such fierceness she fell silent again, "There have been several publications on the Champion of Cyrodiil and her adventures but only one talks about her rather unusual seal ring. One that never sold well and very few people read. It's no use, Lady, and like I said I'm the only one who noticed."

The Elf couldn't help but smirk. Of all the things to give her away: her sword, her shield, her eyes, for the gods' sake! It had to be that damn ring! Amber set in costly silver, it was a gift from her father and the peculiar, intricately shaped stone did indeed make for an unusual seal.

"By the stars, what a thing to notice," She muttered and then sighed in defeat, "Well, I confess. The Champion of Cyrodiil at your service. Will you answer my questions?"

There was another silence and when he spoke, she could hear the blatant triumph in his voice.

"I don't have much time so I'll be quick. Three weeks ago the general received a guest that none of us recognized. The most I can tell you is that he was an Elf. They met for some time and the Elf left late that night. Four days later the threat on the Princess' life came to us. Bevlian tried to pass this off as news that reached him in the middle of the night, but rumors began to circulate that no messenger was admitted, no note sent. And then there was the talk about what the Elf was really doing. Those rumors took on a darker meaning the longer they were considered and the growing suspicion was that the threat was going to be pinned to your Nerevar. That makes the most sense of everything, although the only reason we have for this is that the fingered tribes are the most-"

"Unlikely," Katryn interrupted, her thoughts racing. She had been right, this was all an elaborate cover and for one of very few times, genuine terror shivered through her, "I know that."

"I should have guessed," Amusement had replaced the triumph and she heard him get to his feet, "I'll be missed, Lady. I've told you what I know and you can figure out the rest on your own, I'm sure."

Katryn picked up the slide of his boots on the snow and she had to get the last word in.

"Be careful with Bevlian's future guests, my lord. You were convincing with your writing but your eyes tell a completely different story."

The man paused as Katryn began walking and she heard his stammered thanks. She allowed a grin as they parted ways. He had been so confidant and self-assured with his secrecy that she almost hadn't wanted to blow his cover. Almost. This lightness didn't last long. Having her fears confirmed was anything but comforting and she knew now what the most important move was going to be. She really should have taken Martin up on that offer to protect the Nerevar.


	10. Chapter 10

"It's been nearly a week," Len said and worked himself to his feet. His face screwed up against the pain but he was actually making progress, "Anything could have-"

"Even we would have received word if something had happened with the Princess," Bhaer interrupted as he run one thumb along the blade of a war axe with ancient script curling from the hilt up to the base of the wide blade, "And now that we are making our move, that is all we should be concerned with."

Len paced carefully to the fire and then back to the mattress, feeling the sap at his strength becoming more and more exhausting. The idea to go back to the palace and explain things in person was not great but the Altmer's impatience was growing by each hour and when Bhaer told him that there wasn't anyone he could trust, the decision was made. They really had no other option as far as Len was concerned.

"That won't get any easier, lad," The Nord was looking at him knowingly and could read the pain in his face with ease.

"I don't expect it to and I don't have a choice anymore," He gritted his teeth together as he made another short lap.

Bhaer studied him and saw though his face was pale, Len was staunchly going through the routines they laid out for him to gather his strength. The Nord didn't like this plan at all and he didn't bother to hide it.

"That's not true," He began slowly.

The Altmer stopped and turned partially to face him.

"Bhaer."

"I told you that the other option would be to go to one of the outposts here and report it," The Nord was continuing like Len hadn't even spoken and he was completely ignoring the warning note in the Elf's voice, "I still don't understand what the problem was there."

"None of these outposts are to be trusted," Len struggled to maintain the calm that Bhaer managed with such simplicity and knew he would never succeed.

Bhaer frowned at him and set his axe aside. Getting to his feet in one fluid move, he went to the door and opened it to admit Shiel to the cavern. The wolf hadn't even had a chance to scratch at the wood but Len had given up trying to understand the Nord.

"Wasn't it one of your outposts that unearthed the threat on the lass' life?"

The Altmer sighed and clenched his fists briefly, telling himself to relax. They had had this conversation so many times, he wondered what prevented his words from penetrating the Nord's skull. He knew the race was infamous for bullheadedness, but seriously!

"And that's the reason this became such a concern," He finally answered and couldn't help but be a little proud of himself for how level his voice was, "The Emperor is too trusting of his own men and those outposts in the farther reaches of the empire don't always receive the scrutiny and attention they need. It has nothing to do with incompetence, just that he's too busy with everything else. What should have happened was an immediate investigation into the threat but he was so distracted with my lady's protection, these things were overlooked. If he's doing this now, great... I'm just afraid that we're too many steps behind."

Bhaer stared at him for a long moment before striding back to where he had been seated and shouldering his pack. The war axe was slung across his back with an ease that spoke of long experience and he nodded to Len.

"Well, then, the sooner we start the better."

* * *

For Deryl Lofolk, life was great up to the point he had to escape to Morrowind from a very comfortable life in Skyrim, was given a package for one Cauis Cosades by a Dunmer he had never seen in his life, got told he was the Nerevar reborn, shoved into now about a half dozen life threatening situations, oh and most recently and definitely his favorite, getting the corprus disease. Even then he didn't get a break, considering the damn genius that came up with the cure decided he simply _had_ to have a pair of boots before he even considering giving him the potion. Yes, life was fantastic.

The young Nord sighed as he trudged down the steps away from the silt strider platform and made his way wearily back to Cosades' house. He knew that teleportation would be so much faster, but he hated that travel and the Breton manning the platform in Sadrith Mora happened to be quite attractive. Too bad his life was turning out to be cursed. She had spared him a few broad, coy grins but that was as far as he got. Cursing underneath his breath as he realized what he missed when he thought of her glowing eyes, he nearly forgot to keep a low profile as Cosades demanded several days ago.

He ducked his head a little and moved as unobtrusively as he could to the shadows of the mud and brick buildings. The damp cold hardly effected him. Coming from Skyrim, he was used to waking up with cold, clear mornings and in an hour's time have freezing rain pelting him. The drizzle that was settling over Balmora now was enough to keep any guards from looking too closely at him and soon he was climbing the stairs to the upper courtyard where Cosades had taken up residence. The yard was clear and Deryl breathed a sigh of relief. Usually the crazy neighbor was out perched in front of her house in any weather, spewing repentance and the end of the world. What made it worse was that she had taken a liking to him personally simply because he had flirted a little. Now he couldn't escape a conversation with her unless it was a life or death situation. Even then he was sure that she would be as oblivious as always. And anyway it didn't really matter anymore, he was getting quite adept at scaling walls and slipping unseen into houses. He jumped the three steps to the front door and entered without knocking.

"Hey, Cosades!" He hollered, barely glancing around the room, "Success! The Nerevar reborn is alive and well and corprus free. I was even told by a hospitable madman that I'm immune for life. So it looks like- Hello."

His eyes had landed on a very pretty Dunmer standing before the fire roaring in the grate, her back to the flames that matched her eyes. Her simple clothing was travel stained and worn and the leather boots were muddied. A heavy cloak was hung next to the fire as well and the smell of drying wool was permeating the room. She arched one eyebrow at him as a smile played with the corners of her blue-black lips which were just two or three shades lighter than her skin.

"Deryl Lofolk, I'm guessing?" She greeted in a voice that flowed like water, her thick accent making it rather musical, "Nerevar reborn, was that it?"

"So I've been told," He answered and felt the familiar burning in his body at the sight of a pretty girl. Though this was close to awe. Dunmer women had always held something else for him and they had been the most difficult for him to win over. One look in this one's fire colored eyes and he knew it was going to be downright impossible. But he never backed down from a fight. Cosades appeared in the doorway of his bedroom and Deryl flashed him a quick grin before turning full attention back to the Elf, "A gift, Cauis? You shouldn't have."

This time both the eyebrows shot up and though her expression cooled, the eyes burned even hotter. She pressed her full lips together for just a moment and then lifted her slender shoulders.

" _This_ is Morrowind's saviour?" She questioned and shot a look at Cosades, "Everyone is doomed."

Deryl liked that and Cosades was quick to see it. The aged Imperial stepped forward, one arm full of books. His blue-grey eyes were still a little distant but the sternness that had been returning in Deryl's company was growing stronger.

"Deryl Lofolk, Katryn Gwynyth," Cosades introduced, seeming to enjoy saying such an immortal name, "Lady Gwynyth, Morrowind's saviour."

"We _are_ doomed," Katryn clarified as Deryl continued to eye her with pleasure and now obvious disbelief.

He was tall even by Nords' standards and towered over Cosades. His white blonde hair fell lightly against his ears and just brushed the base of his neck. It was thick and straight and reminded her of her little Lee. It was impossible to pin down a color for the eyes that roved her body so boldly. They kept merging from green to grey and then to an indeterminate shade of blue. His strongly featured face was very handsome and what was worse, he knew it. The cheekbones stood proud under the wide eyes and his nose had a crookedness to it that was rather charming. His mouth was full and broad and his basic expression was one that belonged to a man who clearly enjoyed life and all its baser pleasures. There were hard lines about his mouth that spoke of cruelty and a stubbornness not unlike her own and she knew she would have to make the barriers between them very, very prominent. He was far too used to getting his own way.

"You're the Champion of Cyrodiil?" He questioned, not in slightest bit convinced.

"And you're the Nerevar reborn?" She was enjoying this. At least he would be entertaining.

"At least that one you can see, right?"

She eyed him again, playing along and could practically watch his head swell as he recognized the admiration he saw there for his physical beauty. Meeting his gaze and wanting nothing more than to destroy his ego, she answered simply,

"No."

Cosades chuckled and stepped fully into the room, making his way to the cluttered table and motioning for the Elf to follow. He shoved a pile of papers and old texts aside and the books hit the wood with a dull thud.

"These are the only ones I have on the Nerevar prophecies," He was telling her as she moved to stand next to him, "Although I don't see why you wasted your time coming here when you had the palace's library at your disposal."

Katryn could feel the burning questions in the Imperial's eyes and Deryl's scrutiny didn't help either. She hadn't really had a chance to explain fully what she was doing in Morrowind and with the Nord's added presence, well it wasn't going to be easy.

"It really isn't that simple," She replied quietly and welcomed the mug of warm ale Cosades handed her with grateful thanks.

"And you think this is, hero?" Deryl cut in and his strange eyes danced.

"No more a hero than yourself," She answered and then looked back to Cosades.

Taking a sip of the ale, she studied him briefly as she decided just how much she wanted to explain. The former Blade's history was murky at best and all Katryn knew was that Uriel Septim had discharged him from the army and sent him to Morrowind. The reasons why had always been different, it just depended on who you asked. Even Baurus didn't know but he had had his suspicions that Cosades simply took one too many blows to the head and it was in the best interests of everyone if he was allowed to live out retirement in semi-exile. Whatever the truth was, Katryn wasn't going to concern herself. Right now all she needed was to help Deryl with the completion of the Nerevar's tasks and keep him safe from those who planned to destroy Morrowind and Cyrodiil's futures.

"So you don't want your titles?" Deryl was asking and his incredulous voice broke through her thoughts.

She faced him and watched as he shook out his cloak and hung it beside hers. He had said corprus disease, she was sure and she burned with curiousity at how he managed to escape that one. It was quite possibly the cruelest way to die: watching your body literally decompose before your eyes and not able to find a relief from the pain... But the Nord was completely whole as he stood before the fire, the lean muscles in his arms more prominent as the fire's flickering light played across them.

"I just think that maybe it's too much for so small a person," She answered with a self-deprecation that neither of the men could understand. Her slender arms were spread a little in a move that said, _Look at me_.

Not that Deryl needed the encouragement. He'd been staring at her since he walked in and he had to agree. The Elf was small, not much taller than some Bosmer he knew and that meant she must be tiny by Dunmer standards.

"Maybe," He responded, "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I know," Katryn turned to the table and added, "The Emperor sent me to follow up on the threat against the Princess and what I have managed to unearth is a ploy to blame the Nerevar for her death. Mar- Septim is not aware of this since I have no easy way to get word to him and so I came here hoping that you hadn't gone into hiding yet."

Cosades' eyes were fixed on her as he took in her explanation and some of the dimness in his expression lifted. She could see his brain beginning to work and she was instantly reminded of Jauffre's single-mindedness when it came to making plans.

"Blaming me?!" Deryl echoed, anger in his voice, "I haven't even-"

"We know," Katryn interrupted and then went on like he hadn't spoken, "And that's why I am here. Right now the Princess' life is going to be in the hands of the ones most capable of keeping her safe, I need to focus on this."

Deryl's face twisted into a mocking smile and he let his gaze slide over her for the umpteenth time. She was standing straight, proud and she never once considered that her words wouldn't be received well.

"So I'm to get my own little bodyguard?"

Katryn barely glanced at him, still waiting for Cosades to say something.

"No, I'm going to make sure you follow through with all the tasks and you will need someone to walk you through the finer points of speaking with the Ashkhans and wise women. That is why I needed your books, Cauis."

"Then I will see that word gets to the Emperor," Cosades replied finally and his voice took on a new note of confidence. His eyes went to Deryl, "The place will be yours as long as you can use it. These next tasks will be difficult, not to mention dangerous, and life will simply get harder."

"At least there's some hope," The Nord muttered drily.

"These are the books I have, like I said, Lady," The Imperial continued as though there was no interruption, "And I will leave the package that came with him for you as well. Everything will be outlined there. Be careful."

He had moved about the room as he spoke, gathering a few belongings into a pack and pulling on heavy boots and cloak. Shouldering the bag, he shook Deryl's hand and bowed to Katryn, the vagueness disappearing from his face completely.

"I will try to send word as soon as I can, but don't wait for me, don't wait for anyone. Do what you have to do, time is of the essence."

And with that, he was gone. Deryl was turning back to Katryn before the door even clicked shut completely. Life was beginning to look a little better. The Elf was already rifling through Cosades' papers and seemed unaware of his intense scrutiny.

"So, what do we do now?" He asked and didn't bother to keep the innuendo from his tone.

She hardly looked at him and he recognized the book in her hands as Cosades' personal journal. Her burning eyes were going over the surprisingly neat script and she was thrilled to see that the last entry was from that morning.

" _We_ are not doing anything together," She finally answered as she read the entries from the past few days, "You should rest. Corprus disease-"

"There's no way you misunderstood," He interrupted and then mimicked her a little as he spread his arms, "I'm cured, no disease."

Katryn looked him over and then wished she hadn't when he shot her that self-assured and cocky grin.

"I can see that," She replied drily, "But who knows the next time we will be able to relax and rest like we can now."

He frowned at her and then cocked his head, nodding at the book. Moving to stand next to her and read what Cosades had written, his frowned deepened.

"What do you mean? Cosades said something along those lines, too. Is he predicting this?"

She shifted a little and flipped the page. It was hard not to be so aware of him and it wasn't because he towered over her. He was smaller than Gozrak and besides that wasn't the same awareness. It was Deryl's absolute certainty he could win her over, it was his own response to her nearness and it made her uncomfortable.

"In a way..." The Elf was vague and she began reading again. Her head snapped up suddenly and she met his gaze, "Mehra Miro? She's still at Vivec?"

"Still? Yes, she's there. How do you know about her?"

"I thought my accent might give away that I've grown up here," She was reading again and so she missed the admiring glint in his eyes.

Deryl liked her fire and sarcasm, it meant that she would be much more easy going about his rather undesirable traits. Any other woman would have given up on him the moment they met but she was willing to cross swords and return snide comment for snide comment.

"And as for our next move," Her eyes met his again, "It's back to Vivec and Miro."

* * *

"Princess?" A soft voice said as a hand gently shook Mia's shoulder, "Princess, wake up."

Mia groaned and rolled away from the hand, burrowing her head into the pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut as she realized the room didn't even have that grey light that promised the coming dawn.

"It's too early, Mag," She drawled sleepily, "Go away."

"It is not Mag, my lady," The voice replied, "And it's about the Emperor."

The girl was a little more awake now and she blinked her eyes in the thick dark, trying to make sense of what she was being told. She struggled to sit up and found that, as usual, she had tangled herself completely in her bed clothes.

"Father?" She asked and her voice was alarmed, "What's the matter? What happened?"

"I wasn't told, my lady," The young woman's tone had a hard edge to it like she was nervous and Mia still couldn't recognize it, "Please, it seemed urgent."

A soft robe was thrust into the princess' hands and the girl needed no further encouragement. She successfully kicked her legs free of the covers and was out of bed, throwing the robe around her shoulders. As they hurried into the hall and down the stairs, Mia finally recognized the older girl as a palace servant that had come to them several weeks ago. Not that it mattered. Worry for her father was foremost and she fell into step next to the servant as they practically ran down the hallway.

"Where is he?"

"I'm to take you to the library, my lady."

Again there was that breathless, rather excited lilt to her voice and Mia felt her spine stiffen. She knew that all this servant wanted was a good piece of gossip and her disgust for that was thick. Not understanding why her father would be in his library at this hour, she nevertheless didn't ask questions. Instead she picked up the pace and almost screamed when the servant actually _knocked_ on the door rather than just throw it open. There wasn't much time to dwell on that as the door was pulled forward instantly.

Mia stumbled into the pitch dark room after the servant and wondered why it wasn't lit. The older girl seemed to read her thoughts and the princess heard her call for lights. Mia stumbled three or four more steps and reached out her hands to find purchase against one of the tables. Her eyes blinked rapidly, straining to see anything in the dark. Even the windows were shuttered and the first pin-pricks of fear needled her.

"Papa?" She said quietly, unease pooling steadily into her belly. Something wasn't right: it was too dark and if her father was ill, the palace would have been a veritable beehive of activity, "Papa, are you all right?"

"Mia," A rough voice murmured to her right and the girl started, whirling to face the deeper shadows where the bookshelves were supposed to be.

It had sounded rather like the Emperor, but not enough and everything within Mia screamed that she was in serious danger. She had never been one to back down from a threat and now was no exception. She stiffened her back and tossed her head, sending near black witch-locks flying as she squared her shoulders.

"What is going on here? Where are the lights?" She demanded and hated the fear she heard in her voice. Rustling came from behind her and she shifted quickly, trying to remember everything Uncle Baurus had taught her about combat, "My father isn't here. What is this? I demand-"

A hand clamped tightly over her mouth as her voice started to rise and she screamed against the rough skin. Her captor fastened his free arm around her body, trapping her arms and making movement nearly impossible. She fought all the same, screaming as best she could though it sounded like a weak moan, dampened by the hand. Lashing out with her feet, she tried to stomp on toes and kick shins and would have bit flesh if she hadn't been held so tightly.

"It would be easier to take care of her here and not have to be bothered with this," A voice rasped and Mia went still, tears of rage and terror pricking her eyes.

"We have our orders and we'll follow them," The one holding her answered and she recognized the gruff voice as the one that said her name. It sounded nothing like her father, save the accent and slight huskiness and she wondered how she could have gotten them confused, "Get that window open and make sure it's still clear."

Mia pulled futilely against him, her struggles becoming less fierce as her tears spilled over. She slacked in his arms to the point that his pressure on her mouth lightened some. Immediately she acted, slamming her foot down on his toes and tearing her face away to scream. She managed a small cry before she was shocked into a humiliated silence once more. The man opening the window turned just in time to see what had happened and he leaped at them, slapping Mia across the face and sending her tumbling back into the other's arms. She didn't even try to move as he covered her mouth again, too stunned to do so. Having never been struck before in her life, the disrespect of such a thing weighed heavily on her despite being just 15.

"Bastard!" The voice behind her snarled and there was an odd gentleness in his restraining arms, "You can't-"

"It's better than bringing the damn place down on us! Keep a hold of her and do your part," Was the response and the venom was thick in his voice. She felt him stare at her as he added, "At least she's quiet now."

The two men glared daggers at one another and the princess finally felt the one holding her relent. He began walking, shunting her toward the window.

"There's time for this later," He muttered, "Take care of her, we need to move."

Mia found herself frowning, wondering what he meant by that. She knew they weren't talking about her and she found out what it really was rather brutally. Her captor was casting magic with his free hand and she felt her hands and feet snap together without her permission. She swayed and would have fallen but he caught her and positioned her so he could sling her arms around his neck. Opening her suddenly freed mouth, she tried to scream and made no sound.

"It's no use, Princess," He told her gruffly, easing to the window with her hanging to his back like a monkey, "You won't make sound until I want you to."

She glared at the back of his head and when he turned to begin the scale down the wall, Mia's eyes locked on the terrified, bugging eyes of the servant. The room was still shadowed deeply but the light from the open window was enough to see what 'take care of her' meant. The second man was slitting the girl's throat, his dark, hate-filled eyes on the princess. Mia couldn't even scream as the servant's feeble struggles against her murderer grew less and the crimson stain at her feet grew. And then the man carrying her dropped from the window ledge and escaped into the night, his call at the Imperial Palace having come to an end.


	11. Chapter 11

"My turn," Deryl said cheerfully, falling into step beside Katryn as they walked towards Vivec's Plaza canton, "How old are you?"

"113," She answered and tugged her hood a little closer. The rain hadn't let up since they left Balmora, not that she was surprised, and the closer they got to the coast the worse it became, "Which would be about 56 where Imperials are concerned and whatever it might be in relation to everyone else."

"So you're young for an Elf?" He tried to clarify.

"Yes, middle age for us is 140. It doesn't make sense, I know that," She smiled a little as she shrugged and they started down the lower balcony of the canton, "But that is probably why we do it."

Vivec was a complex city. The 10 cantons were all connected by brownstone bridges or there were gondoliers that ferried people between them. For newcomers, it was nearly impossible to find their way without asking and even those that made regular trips could get turned around. The huge buildings were made of ancient stone slabs and the odd squat shape gave the illusion that they had come from the bay they were built over. All the cantons were girded with lower and upper balconies and tunnels at each corner that led up to the interior doors. Once you were inside the cantons, hallways intersected and twisted like labyrinths and the hawkers and shops were practically on top of one another. The Plaza and Arena cantons were by far the busiest of them all and Katryn picked up the pace a little as they made their way to one of the gondoliers. She paid the 7 gold pieces that it took to get them to the Temple canton and then settled into the little boat.

"Your turn," Deryl commented as he plunked down beside her and earned a dark look from the gondolier.

He ignored this and turned his attention to Katryn. They had been playing his 'game' since they left Cosades' house. The Elf had remained stubbornly mute the night before and he was burning with curiousity about her. So he had proposed that they take turns asking one another simple questions. Katryn hadn't refused to play but she hadn't agreed either. He simply started by asking about her family and she grudgingly answered him. Clearly she had hoped that he would grow tired of it or of her silence and was let down when he persisted stubbornly, so she had returned the favor and merely mimicked all his own questions. Not that he minded. He had used it against her fairly early on. She had obviously been mocking him and when she parroted his sixth question, he took a leap and asked her when she lost 'it'. For a moment, the Elf had been stunned and then her cheeks burned pale blue and she had snapped sarcastically that it was much later than he himself which he didn't argue with. But it brought a quick end to her attempts to throw him off.

"Brothers or sisters?" She questioned quietly as the gondolier steered them expertly between the cantons.

"None that I know of," He replied and stretched beside her. His muscles were sore and he could feel the effects of the corprus disease and cure still working on him. Also, it had been a long time since he had done _this_ much exercise. He wasn't one to go into cursed tombs and caverns just for kicks; unless of course there happened to be a pot of gold at the end, "I was raised by my grandparents and there was never any talk about siblings. But you never know."

She was only partially listening to him. Her fingers itched to dig into the pack and pull out Cosades' journal again or one of the books that he had left her but the gondolier was looking at them curiously and she resisted the urge. She couldn't allow a stupid mistake like that to blow their cover.

"Right, Kat-"

"Ask then," She interrupted quickly, wishing she could smack him. He was clueless! He'd be willing to reveal their plans and who she was to about anyone just to find out the name of the first boy she had kissed!

"That's not what I meant," Deryl's voice was almost a little hurt by her sharp tone and she looked around at him in surprise. Waving one hand at the gondolier who now looked like he wished he hadn't picked them up, he added, "He was saying that the farthest he can get us is the Redoran canton, as there's something wrong with the dock at the Temple."

Katryn shook herself mentally and then flashed the gondolier a quick apologetic smile. She would have to pay more attention.

"That is fine, thank you."

Deryl was frowning at her, still managing to make her feel like he knew what she looked like naked. His eyes were more green today and she hated the fact she like that the best, that she thought he was most attractive then. She'd almost prefer to be back at the palace with Martin and his inability to keep his hands to himself and then immediately felt guilty for having that thought. He loved her and could clearly see she still loved him which made it even harder for her to snap at him about keeping his distance.

"You're a strange one, hero," Deryl's smooth, slightly husky voice broke through those thoughts and she glanced up at him. They were coming up on the short dock at the Redoran canton and she couldn't help but feel relief, "You've got to be the first woman I've ever met that has more trouble talking than staying quiet."

She snorted and felt her lips curling into an amused smile. For all his annoyances and slip-ups in using her name, he was entertaining and she needed that.

"It keeps you on your toes at least," She returned and got to her feet as the gondolier tied the boat to the dock.

Katryn was moving forward to step off as Deryl stood. His weight made the little boat pitch suddenly and the Elf, poised precariously with one foot in the air, lost her balance. Deryl reacted quickly and reached forward, grabbing her elbow and steadying her against his body. She allowed herself to be held momentarily and when she caught the gondolier's questioning gaze, she stiffened and disentangled herself from him as kindly as possible, not wanting to draw even more attention. Her cheeks were flushed and she murmured thanks to Deryl as she climbed out of the boat and started up the ramp to the lower balcony of the canton. The Nord caught up with her easily and once more fell into step beside her. She didn't have to look at him to see his amusement and she bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him. He had been all too keen on giving himself reasons to touch her and the barriers she was frantically trying to erect between them were useless against this.

"My turn," He announced and she heaved a sigh without bothering to try to hide it. Deryl ignored it, "You said you love this part of the country, that you grew up outside Pelagiad, right? So why choose to live on the western-most coast of Cyrodiil?"

Katryn shrugged as she saw the Temple ahead through the haze of rain and drifting fog. Mehra Miro's quarters were in the Hall of Wisdom, according to Cosades' journal, and Katryn went over in her mind the way to get there. It was more difficult than most, but one of her brothers had worked in the Temple for some time as messenger and errand boy and he had shown her everything when she visited.

"Anvil is a beautiful little fishing town and the people needed a healer," She answered finally, feeling his growing impatience and getting a vindictive sort of pleasure from it, "When I returned home after everything, I got bored. This place held nostalgia for me but I had seen some of the most beautiful places in the world while running errands for the Blades and I wanted more. Anvil is quiet and small; everyone knows each other and the people are friendly and relaxed. I guess it was what I needed after all the insanity of Jauffre Mel and Martin Septim's trials."

"Healer?" He repeated and she heard the shocked disbelief in his voice.

Glancing up at him, she mocked indignation.

"My turn, remember?"

The Nord clearly didn't expect her to play along and it took a moment before he saw that she was teasing. He nudged her good-naturedly with one elbow and wondered how he could keep that pretty smile on her face.

"See, it's not so hard."

They fell silent again as they crossed the last bridge and hurried through the increasing rain to the doorway. Katryn flung it open and stepped gratefully into the dry warmth of the large lobby area. Several Temple attendants were milling about the room and worshipers were coming and going steadily, in spite of the weather. The Elf pushed her hood off her dark hair and started down a long hallway while Deryl followed. He had to fall in behind her as the hall was too narrow and crowded to allow anything but single files. Katryn finally pushed through the last few crowds and made a turn up a staircase to a deserted passage. Glancing both ways and hesitating for a moment, she cast a look up at him.

"You don't remember which way by chance, do you?"

Deryl was looking to their right and straining to see one of the many tapestries covering the walls. After another glance to the left, he motioned with one hand and led the way.

"It's here," He said with certainty, "I remember because I thought it was odd they had a Nordic tapestry hanging in an Elvish temple."

They paused briefly before a tapestry that depicted a young hero battling with a monstrous creature. The hero's blade was pitted and bloody but his face was set, drawn and completely single-minded as he drove forward against his towering, grimy skinned and black-eyed foe. The creature had a dragon's snout, ram's horns and thick barrel-like body. Its tail was spiked and it was leaning forward in such a way that any hope for the hero was non-existent.

Katryn frowned at it and shook her head.

"That's not Nordic, Lofolk," She said, "It is the story of Felkirch battling Molag Bal. He was supposed to have been a Breton with a Dunmer mother. Molag Bal, of course no one claims, but that's a Dunmer tale."

"No it isn't," Deryl argued without the slightest bit of consternation. He wasn't even considering that he could be wrong, "It was begun as a Nordic tale and you all stole it. The hero's name is Kalbhar and the monster's Helfron. He was the origination of everything evil in Skyrim. Kalbhar was the Nords' only hope and he confronted Helfron before he could split the sky and destroy the world. They fought for two straight days and realized they were too evenly match and so Kalbhar did the only thing that would stop the monster once and for all. He allowed Helfron to kill him, sacrificing himself for the rest of the world and Helfron was destroyed as well," The Nord grinned wryly at her and then shrugged his shoulders, "You Dunmer decided that you liked the story and so you adopted it several thousand years ago, without asking of course, and changed the names. We're still waiting for it to be returned."

Katryn realized she was staring at him and she blinked, shaking her head a little as she glanced between the tapestry and Deryl. It wasn't often, if ever, that she received a history lesson from someone else and the fact that this came from _him_ shocked her into near speechlessness.

"How in the hell..."

Deryl's grin widened and there was more than a little self-loathing in his face. He reached out and fingered the dangling tassels with one hand.

"I was raised by my grandparents, remember? They had no love for the Dunmer and I grew up listening to all of your shortcomings and faults, whether they were truth or not. That one happens to be one of few that were real," He dropped his hand and started walking again, "It'll really grate on all these self-serving, pious, holier-than-thou... Dunmer when they find out a Nord with a very biased upbringing ends up being their salvation."

Katryn felt the sting of his hatred in those words and this shining, new-found respect for him grudgingly grew a little bigger. This time she fell in beside him and said patiently,

"It already is."

He glanced at her briefly and saw that she still looked insultingly shocked.

"I didn't mean any disrespect to you, Kat. It's not your fault you were born to these authoritarian bastards."

"And just think of all the things I could say about Nords, alphabetically even" She murmured in reply, keeping her voice soft and dangerously sweet. There really weren't any hard feelings about his comments; she knew how unfair and intolerant her people could be, but that wasn't about to stop her teasing, "Starting with you- annoying, brash, conceited, debauchee, egoist, feckless, grievance, hedonist, impote-"

" _That_ one you'll have to wait and find out for yourself," He interrupted quickly and grinned when her cheeks flushed a little and her eyes danced wickedly.

"You have no idea what I was going to say," Katryn defended herself and realized they had stopped walking. She really would have to pay more attention. They lost too much of the outside world when mocking each other.

He cocked his head at her and his eyes became rather shuttered as he searched her face. This wasn't good for either one of them. He wasn't a fool; it would be too easy to get attached to this woman and he had no idea what those ghosts in her past were, just like she didn't know his. And yet here they were, joking once more about the sexual innuendo that really should remain a taboo between them. All the while they were supposed to be tracking down Mehra Miro.

"But that's what you were thinking," He said and arched his brows at her.

Katryn rolled her eyes and began looking at the doors, trying to steer them back to their task at hand. There were little name plates beside some and she saw that the one immediately to their right was Miro's.

"Keep your fantasies to yourself please, Lofolk," She returned absentmindedly, her mind changing gears so rapidly she wasn't surprised he looked confused for a moment, "We have more important things to focus on now."

She stepped forward without waiting for an answer and knocked on the door. Her ears strained to pick up on movement behind the wood but all remained stubbornly quiet. Rapping her knuckles a second time, she glanced over her shoulder,

"Cauis' journal said he was afraid they were watching her. Do you think- Deryl?"

The Nord was a couple of paces down the hall from her and was partially hidden behind one of the tapestries. As she watched in bemusement, he retrieved something small and walked towards her, extending one hand.

"You think this'll help?" He asked and showed her an intricate silver key.

Placing one hand on her hip, he gently pushed her away and inserted the key in the lock. Katryn stared in shock and then reacted.

"By the stars!" She hissed, glancing furtively around at the still, deserted hall, "What are you doing? You can't-"

"She told me where the key was," He grinned roguishly at her and then winked, "Just because my grandparents didn't like Dunmer doesn't mean I don't. She wouldn't have told me if she didn't want me to use it."

The door sprang open rather unexpectedly and Katryn could hear footsteps on the stairs, coming their way. She shoved Deryl into the apartment and quickly closed the door behind them, snapping the lock into place. The room was dim in the poor light from the windows and it was empty. It was furnished with simple, fine taste. There weren't many things cluttering the satin smooth varnishes of the tables and cupboards; durable rugs covered the rather unsightly brownstone floors and the furniture was simplistic almost to an extreme. It was clean and neat and Katryn knew instantly that Miro had told Deryl where the key was in case something went wrong, which was clearly what had happened. She shot a rather venomous look in his direction and added to her alphabet, nevermind she'd already almost clarified 'I',

"Idiot."

"'J's' next," He replied, "Good luck."

She was looking around the room for any clues that Miro might have left and hardly listening. Moving into the bedroom, she spotted an envelope on the dresser beside two scrolls that glimmered in the dim light.

"Don't worry about me, I will think of something."

Katryn picked up the envelope and felt him move to stand next to her. Across the surface was the word 'Amaya' and she frowned. There were other papers and envelopes on the dresser top as well and she got the feeling that it was all for show, that it was meant to keep others from looking too closely at any of it.

"I'll answer though you didn't ask," Deryl cut in, "That code means nothing to me."

"I think it was just meant to catch your attention," Flipping the envelope over, she slid one slender finger under the flap and broke the seal, "Those scrolls there are called Divine Intervention. She would not leave something like that unless whatever she's involved with is fairly serious."

"If it involves the Nerevar," He spread his arms, "It'll be deadly."

Katryn had to concede to that and she pulled out the note, unfolding it and taking in the short message before reading aloud to him. Sure she had called him an idiot and although she was fairly certain that he could read, she would be shocked if he understood Elvish.

"'Amaya,'" She translated, "'The High Inquisitor had a need to question me at the Ministry of Truth so it looks like our meeting will be later. If you'd like, you can grab a levitation potion from the cupboard and meet me. I wasn't hoping to be kept long and our friend Alvela Saram will keep you company. He's been posted at the back door, can you believe it? After all that time he wasted in trying to climb to the top. Ah well, take the scrolls too and let me know if you need anything else. All the best, Mehra.'"

Deryl was watching Katryn's face as she read the note and he could see that she was already thinking through their plan of attack here. It surprised him that while she was candid and open about all the strategies, she was as easy to read as a wall concerning everything else. Meeting his gaze, she arched a brow and shoved the note into her pocket.

"Well, at least she left us all the clues," Immediately she was crossing the room and opening up the cupboard where potions lined every shelf. It took her a moment to find the levitation and she grabbed the last two, muttering, "She won't need them anymore. Grab the scrolls, we have to get out of here before someone is sent to search this place."

The Nord didn't move other than to cross his arms over his chest. He met her gaze and shook his blonde head.

"No," He said firmly, "I've done a lot of stupid things since I came here but this? This is suicide."

Katryn felt irritated anger flood her and she met him glare for glare as she stalked across the room and took up the scrolls herself. He himself said this would be deadly if it involved the Nerevar and she had taken that to mean that he was willing to do anything. Now he was proving himself to be a coward and she wondered why she was so surprised. Several foul names were scrolling through her head, all in Elvish, and unfortunately none of them started with 'J'. So she had to settle for Basic speech.

"Jackass," She snapped and moved to the door, "I told you I would think of one. If you feel that way, wait here and tell the Ordinators when they come that a suicidal woman is going to break a priestess out of the Ministry of Truth. We'll see who they lock up more quickly for insanity."

The Elf was unlocking the door and grabbing the handle to pull it open when his hand slammed into the wood, making that impossible. She shifted to glare at him and was surprised when he reached out with his free hand to take the scrolls from her. He was closer to her than she realized and she involuntarily took a half-step back, not trusting the fire in his eyes. Of course he spotted this and something deeper than fire, almost a hunger for her, took over. He smirked and leaned even closer to speak rather conspiratorially, seeming to forget her biting words.

"You know, if I had stayed in Skyrim, I'd be elbow deep in women and wine not death and madness."

She tilted away from him and didn't like that it took an effort to swallow around her sudden nervousness. He was aware of what he was doing and his eyes, now shifting from grey, now to blue, kept straying to her mouth and then back to her steadily burning gaze, almost like he was asking permission. Permission that wasn't about to be granted.

"Well," She finally managed, "How good for all of us that you didn't. Here Morrowind's fate might have had to rest on a lone Dunmer woman. Could you imagine the horror?"

Deryl grinned and she attributed the sudden leap of her heart and flip of her stomach to what they were about to undertake.

"Glad to see you're back, hero," He slid his hand down the door and turned the knob to open it a crack, "After you."


	12. Chapter 12

Katryn straightened, realized that he was still way too close to her and slipped out into the deserted hallway once more. She began hurrying down the passage, not waiting for him. Behind her came the sound of the door being locked and the slight whisper of the tapestry against the stone wall before his footsteps hastened after her. He took his place at her side and she wished she hadn't become so obviously flustered just by his proximity to her. At the rate she kept sending out these inconsistent messages to him, he was going to think he should take everything upon himself... Like he was already overtly doing.

"The Ministry of Truth, huh?" He asked and glanced at her. The Elf's mind was elsewhere that was clear and he was conceited enough that he was willing to bet she was thinking of him, "What exactly does that mean?"

"How much of this did Cauis explain?" Katryn's exasperation was a little insulting.

"That's what we were in the middle of. I traveled to the Urshilaku tribe and Nibani Measa was using me to pass information about the Dissident Priests to Cosades. These Priests were also the reason I was first sent to speak with Miro. Well that, and something called the Lost Prophecies. I understand some of it. I know that there will be a series of tasks I will have to complete before I can even start asking to be named the Nerevarine. But your coming kind of threw a wrench into the works. Cosades was trying to gather all the information he could on these Prophecies and tasks and now..."

"I know, it's all the damn Elf's fault," Katryn finished for him and tossed her hood back over her hair as they left the Hall of Wisdom and skirted around to the back of the Temple.

Deryl was looking down to avoid getting his face wet and so nearly collided with Katryn when he didn't notice her stop. As it was, he knocked into her elbow and then smiled apologetically when she sent him a look. She was holding one of the potion bottles out to him and he frowned.

"You didn't answer my question," Deryl said and took the potion, "What is the Ministry of Truth and why do we need to levitate?"

"The Ministry of Truth is where the Ordinators bring those suspected of being Dissidents to be judged by High Priests. It's a courtroom and a jail thrown into one. As long as you are suspected, you remain jailed, and if the Priests find you innocent, that is when you are released," Katryn was rearranging her pack and situating everything so that it was as condensed as possible, "Miro's note said that she didn't hope to be kept long which was code for-"

"Get me the hell out of here?" Deryl's voice was rather faint and Katryn risked the weather to glance up.

The Nord's head was tilted back and he was oblivious to the rain as he stared open-mouthed at the Ministry. It's story was one of the oddest by far. The jail and courtroom were housed within an asteroid that, legend had it, was hurled at the Temple when the goddess Almalexia grew angry with the god Vivec. It had taken all of Vivec's powers to stop the giant rock from smashing his temple and ardent followers believed that as long as the god was sated, the asteroid would stay suspended as it was, like a giant, disastrous raincloud just waiting to unleash its fury. Only those that knew the inner workings of the Temple and how important it was for the Priests to keep those followers believing the tale, knew the truth. It was an asteroid, that much was obvious, but it had received several spells to keep it suspended which at times could be a very difficult thing to hide. So the one way they had come up with was to make it harder to reach. There were no stairs though they could easily be built and left the only option of levitation.

"Does that answer your question?" Katryn asked as she straightened and slung her pack over her shoulders again.

Deryl looked at her and shook his head, at a loss.

"I'll never understand this country," He muttered.

"No one will," She smiled and pulled at his elbow, "Come around this way. Miro said back door."

"That thing has _doors_?"

Again the smile spread across her face and she shrugged her shoulders a little.

"When you want others to believe a lie so badly you have to make sure your story will not have holes. Have you ever used a levitation potion before?"

Deryl forced his attention to her and then nodded rather smugly. The use of levitation was non-existent in Skyrim and he couldn't help but be proud of himself for knowing the finer points of how the spell worked.

"Maybe the thin air will shrink your head," Katryn said under her breath and pulled the stopper in her bottle. She downed it quickly and grimaced at the taste, "It is now or never, Lofolk."

The Nord mimicked her and they rose rapidly into the air, taking steps like they were climbing stairs. Katryn held out one hand to stop him when they came level with a wood platform and spotted a rather nervous Dunmer standing guard there. Carefully, so as not to rise any higher than they needed, they both took smaller steps straight ahead and reached the platform.

"Amaya?" The Dunmer questioned, reaching out one hand to grasp Deryl's forearm and pull him onto the wood.

"Amaya," Deryl smiled as he said it and was relieved when his feet hit a solid surface again. He turned and grabbed Katryn's hand before Saram could do so. Pulling her to the platform and clasping her slim fingers longer than he needed to, he added, "We came to visit Mehra Miro."

Saram nodded grimly.

"I was afraid you'd say that," He said.

Katryn immediately stiffened, one hand seeking out the hilt of her sword and fingers curling tightly around it. Deryl was standing protectively in front of her and he fixed Saram with a cold expression. Katryn wanted to tell him to take it easy but she didn't have a chance.

"Afraid?" The Nord repeated, "Afraid of what? We simply want to speak with a friend. I was under the impression that the High Inquisitor just had a few questions. Is there-"

"You misunderstood me," Saram interrupted quickly while Katryn eyed Deryl in stunned surprise. He was a lot quicker than she gave him credit for, "This is the safer way to go, but the place is crawling with Ordinators. You will have to be very careful. The hallway just through this door has been cleared for you but Mehra will be guarded. At the end of the hall there will be two sets of stairs going down and one leading up. Take the left hand staircase that leads down. Mehra's cell will be the one at the very end, on the right hand side. Getting in will be much simpler than trying to escape with her. Do you-"

"We have it under control," Katryn assured him, "Please, we must hurry."

Saram nodded his head and fumbled at his belt for his keys, unlocking the door behind him.

"The gods be with you."

Without hesitating, Katryn plunged into the long, dark hallway with Deryl following and Saram closed the door on them. The Elf began hurrying down the passage, her eyes adjusting almost instantly to the shadows.

"Hey, wait up a minute," Deryl called quietly.

Katryn glanced back at him to see that he had managed a few paces, blinking rapidly as he tried to get his eyes used to this. Allowing a smirk, she turned to face him and watched in amusement as he approached her carefully.

"Would you like to wait here until you get used to the dark or will stumbling along be the better idea?" She asked innocently, keeping her voice soft.

The Nord muttered under his breath in his own language and Katryn was pleasantly surprised to see she had wormed under his skin a little. She wasn't fluent in Nordic but she knew certain phrases and her time with the Blades had allowed her to learn some of their favorite curses. Which was what Deryl was muttering of course. His eyes were dark blue in the poor light and he glared half-heartedly, not about to let her see that he was thrilled she getting more and more comfortable with teasing him. She was more attractive this way, almost but not quite as pretty as when he successfully got her fully pissed off.

"I'm beginning to see why Mam and Pop were so venomous against Dark Elves," He returned.

"Authoritarian, know it all bastards?" She clarified and her grin was fueled more with adrenaline than amusement.

"You're catching on," He looked around experimentally and though the shadows were still deep, he could see much better, "Let's keep moving."

They hurried quietly down the hallway, Katryn leading the way and Deryl was able to see the 'Champion of Cyrodiil' a little bit more in her. She was dangerously silent in her movements and had an almost feline grace. The stories he had heard proclaimed her as one of the finest archers in Cyrodiil's history and a very skilled swordsman and although he was the type that had to see to believe, the sword at her hip was almost a testament to it. The Elvish heritage worked to her advantage and when they reached the stairway leading down, she held up one slender hand. She remained poised at the first stair, her head cocked a little to the right as she listened. Her fingers curled ever so slightly, motioning him closer and with her attention diverted, she missed how willingly and happy he was to do so.

"I do not want any deaths," She breathed in his ear, "Take out the guards silently, if you can. I can only hear one set of footsteps below, but that means nothing. Let's try not to bring the whole guard down on us."

"Understood," Deryl replied shortly and felt a little pang of disappointment as the Elf moved away, starting down the stairs without even the whisper of leather boots on the steps. He wanted that moment of voluntary nearness to last just a little longer; liking the fact that she initiated it and he could smell what was distinctly her scent: the herbal wash in her hair and slightly cinnamon smell of her skin, add to it that tang of the sea that reminded him of home. Forcefully, he cleared his head and admonished himself as he went after her. _Focus, Lofolk! Plenty of time for_ that _later._

Katryn was lurking in the deep shadows at the bottom of the steps and he crouched quickly beside her. One guard was pacing rather restlessly several yards from them, up and down the next hall and a second was leaning indolently against the wall. He was so close it was a wonder that he hadn't seen them but he was partially turned to the passage and was paying no attention to the stairs. At first glance it looked like there were just the two to contend with and then Katryn gave a minute nod of her head towards the pacing guard. Beyond him, at the end of the hall and stationed at what had to be Miro's cell, there was another pair of Ordinators, their brushed armor gleaming almost like gold in the flickering torchlight.

The Elf shifted as though she was going to move forward and take care of the first Ordinator but Deryl's hand landed on her arm and he shook his head. He made a vague gesture to the pacing guard and tensed, waiting for the man to turn his back. As soon as he did, the Nord acted. He slipped from the staircase, crept behind the leaning Ordinator and in a lightning fast move that even Katryn had trouble following, suddenly had him about the neck. The guard struggled violently, trying to get the others' attention and make some sort of noise, but his fight was over before it started. In a matter of moments, he was slackening in Deryl's powerful arms and was unconscious before the pacing Ordinator was even halfway through his lap. The Nord dragged the limp man towards the relative safety of the staircase and once more secured himself in the deep shadows.

He laid the Ordinator out of sight and Katryn took over, casting a spell over the man that would leave him mute and bound, hand and foot, until someone found him. Her fingers picked nimbly through his pockets until they met the cool metal of keys. Slowly, so they wouldn't clink together, she curled her fist around them and withdrew her hand. Her eyes met Deryl's in the gloom and she watched warily as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear,

"Your turn, hero."

The Elf went back to spying on the others and wondered why they didn't realize one of their own was missing. The restless one eyed the spot curiously for a brief second and Katryn proceeded to make herself as still as stone. The guard frowned and glanced over his shoulder before studying the dark stairwell where they were hidden. He was obviously waffling over telling his comrades or investigating himself and the Elf would have been shocked if they really got that lucky. From the way the one now lying prone beside them had lazily relaxed against the wall, it was clear he wasn't really a part of the force down here and it wouldn't be any of the others' business if he decided to return to the upper floor.

And she turned out to be right. The Ordinator finally shrugged to himself and resumed his pacing, not going quite as far as he had at first. Which merely made Katryn more nervous. Deryl had done the right thing in getting rid of one of them while he could but it made the second more wary, more alert and it would only get harder from here. The man was making another lap and it was now or never.

Katryn slunk from the steps and hurried forward in a crouch, knowing the man was hiding her from the view of the others. She waited until the last minute, just before he turned to fire a paralysis spell at him. It hit him in the head like she was hoping for and he dropped, unable to make a sound. The other two were much closer than she had anticipated and they both let out cries when they saw her. One got the full blast of the spell to his face and the other was charging her so quickly, she had to dance out of the way to avoid being struck down. She whirled to face him, intent on silencing him when Deryl's knife hilt crack sharply off his temple and he pitched forward into the Nord's arms. Katryn recovered quickly, binding them with magic as she had the first.

"You'll notice _I_ made less noise," Deryl said, at least remembering to keep it a whisper.

The Elf was listening intently for the sound of any other guards and could feel the curious eyes of the other prisoners on them. She searched her mind for another description, this one fitting 'K' and the only thing she could think of was one of Baurus' favorites.

"Killjoy," She muttered in response and even she had to smile at how off it sounded with her accent, "Perhaps next time you will be the gentleman and take out the more difficult ones yourself."

"And prevent the Champion of Cyrodiil from gaining more of her well-earned fame?" He mocked and was rewarded with a particularly dark look.

As soon as the guards were taken care of, Katryn withdrew the keys from her pocket and moved to Miro's cell. The tall, curvy Dark Elf was standing in the middle of the small, dank room and couldn't have seemed more out of place. She was still dressed in her temple robes and the shimmering green fabric seemed to possess its own light. Her amber colored hair was lank against her temples and the clothes were wrinkled; clearly she was imprisoned several days ago. One eyebrow arched over glowing red eyes and she straightened herself even more.

"You had success," She wasn't asking Deryl and she hardly took notice of Katryn as the Elf unlocked her cell door, "That means there's still hope."

"That's why I'm here," Deryl replied with a winning smile.

Katryn rolled her eyes and pulled open the door. She tossed the keys on the floor, close to the next cell and immediately a hand reached between the bars to grab them. They ignored this. Dangerous prisoners were not kept here, only priests that happened to believe something very different in a city that supposedly practiced tolerance for everything.

"We have your scrolls," Deryl added and pulled the two Divine Interventions from the pack slung over his shoulder.

"We have to keep moving," Katryn cut in quietly, her ears pricked for any noise.

Miro took one of the scrolls and unrolled it. She glanced at the other two and seemed to be listening just as hard as Katryn.

"These will get us as far as Ebonheart," She said urgently, "From there I will take you to Holamayn where we can discuss this further. Since there are two of you-"

"It will be more difficult to use this," Katryn interrupted. Her burning eyes were fixed on the ceiling and she spared them another very quick glance, "Someone is coming down the stairs."

Miro tightened her fingers on the scroll as Katryn snatched the other from Deryl and unfurled it.

"Grab this side," She instructed and took his hand in hers before reading the single Elvish script that would cast the spell.

Immediately they were whisked away from the Ministry of Truth in a whirl of color that reminded Deryl sickeningly of teleportation. It didn't last long and his feet were soon back on solid ground. He blinked his eyes open and saw they were standing in a small courtyard behind a looming grey-stoned building. The smell of salt in the air told him they were on the water and he could hear waves lapping against the shore. A tug at his hand made him realize he still had Katryn's locked in his grip. Glancing down, his eyes met hers as she looked at him with trepidation and annoyance.

"You are safe, you can let go now," She said mockingly.

He tugged her a little nearer just to irritate her more and liked how her cheeks flushed as her eyes burned brighter. She sent an embarrassed look in Miro's direction but the Dark Elf wasn't paying any attention; she had hurried down towards the docks that were just visible around the corner.

"Don't play these games with me unless you're willing to follow the rules, hero," Deryl told her and the huskiness of his voice had deepened. The eyes were flashing into a green-grey and they smouldered when she locked gazes with him.

" _You_ are the one playing, Lofolk," She replied and was relieved to hear her voice come out steady and cool, "And since when have you followed any rules?"

"You can't hide forever, Katryn. Someday all those careful boundaries and walls you erect between yourself and those who want you are going to collapse into dust," His tone was changing and she hardly recognized it with the undercurrent of anger taking over the usual effervescence. The way he said her full name was an interesting mix of irritation and feverish desire and that fire for her banked up in his eyes again, "And maybe I'm here to help you get used to that idea."

Katryn was once again shocked by his intuitiveness and while she wasn't sure how to respond exactly, her anger took hold and as usual commanded her tongue.

"Nothing gives you the right to tell me that," She snapped and finally snatched her hand away, "You don't know what I have gone through in the past and none of it is your business. Just take into account that maybe those walls are there because I _have_ allowed someone to want and love me that much, allowed myself to want and love him in return, and things ended so painfully there is a good reason the walls are now twice as high. Don't pretend you understand, I do not expect you to."

She turned on her heel and left him, stalking down to the docks and Miro, furious with herself that tears were burning in her eyes and sure that she would end up throwing Deryl overboard if he so much as looked at her.


	13. Chapter 13

Martin couldn't even muster up the desire to pace, much less force himself to meet anyone's gaze. He was sitting slump-shouldered in one of the few uncomfortable chairs in his quarters and impervious to the tingling pain in his back at the posture as well as the people in the room. Baurus had taken over the proceedings here and he knew Steffan was organizing the Blades into search parties. After the news was disclosed to him and he went through his own frantic search of the palace, he broke down completely in Mia's room. Baurus was the one to find him, of course, and that was when the Redguard shouldered the burdens for himself. Martin wasn't sure what they would do without him.

The general made it clear to everyone that this news was to be kept quiet. Only Mag, Mia's nurse, was to know. All the other girls were dismissed and sent to other areas of the palace to be kept busy. The guards took care of the servant girl's body in the library before anyone else saw it and the blood soaked rug was destroyed. As soon as the mess was cleared and Steffan had made progress with the soldiers, Baurus returned to Martin's quarters and winced when he saw what his old friend was reduced to.

Already the Emperor's features were drawn and he was deathly pale. The usually bright blue eyes were dark with grief and confusion and it didn't seem right for his tall, lean body to be so crumpled like it was in the chair. Matti was perched silently on a windowsill out of Martin's sight and seemed, under every pretense, to be watching the horizon. Her chocolate colored eyes went to her husband when he entered and she minutely shook her head, telling Baurus without words that Martin hadn't moved or spoken. She had been with the Emperor since Baurus had enticed him out of Mia's room and into his own; neither one of them had wanted to leave him alone.

"Steffan's sending men out now," Baurus said softly and went to sit beside Martin, "They won't be traveling by the standard means, it'll be too dangerous. That means they can't have gotten far."

Martin's only response was a blink and slight tilt of the head. He felt empty, emotionally and physically. He knew that Baurus and Matti were here because they loved Mia and worried about him but the bitterness he was lost to wasn't content with just that.

"Just far enough," He replied and wondered if that was even his voice. It was rough with emotion and the deadness to it was almost frightening, "She said it was good to leave Mia in the dark and I can't help thinking if I told her... if I put her on her guard..."

Baurus was frowning before he finally realized what Martin was talking about and by then it was too late to comment on it. The Emperor's eyes filled and he blinked rapidly, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. Matti immediately moved forward and squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Oh, Martin," She said softly and the tears were thick in her voice, "You can't allow yourself to think that. You'll lose hope and hope is the most important thing now. I know it sounds empty but your men love you and they'll do whatever they can to bring Mia home safely. Never forget that."

Her husband was watching Martin closely and saw how he closed his eyes at her touch and clenched his jaw tightly. He took a deep breath and then reached up, squeezing Matti's fingers briefly and then giving one slow nod. The effort to compose himself was monumental and they could see the torture across his face. It was a pain that was too personal, it wasn't something that was to be shared and that was why it was a relief to get the knock on the door. Martin gave a nod to Baurus and the Redguard called an answer.

"Cauis Cosades for you, sire," The guard said with a bow and then left the room again, shutting the door quietly.

Cosades bowed and then straightened and studied each of them as openly as they studied him. His grey-blue eyes were quick to take in everything and he knew he was walking into a fairly volatile situation here.

"I bring news from Lady Gwynyth," He said and the reaction to the name was almost electric.

The Emperor shot forward in his chair, his eyes clearing as they fixed on the older man. Baurus and Matti both snapped to attention as well and Matti's fingers curled painfully into Martin's shoulder.

"Where is she? What news?" Martin asked eagerly and for the first time in hours felt hope.

"I saw her last at my home in Balmora, my lord," Cosades reported, "She had traveled down from Khuul and wanted any books on the Nerevar prophecies that I had. Her fears were confirmed, she told me. The outpost in Khuul has apparently been paid off, though she made it clear that the only one determined to deceive her was Bevlian. She was also warned not to come back and told that the threat against the Princess seemed to appear out of thin air. Her informant never revealed himself and since he was afraid of getting caught, she couldn't detain him and ask more questions. She sought me out because it seems the plan was to blame the Nerevar for the young lady's death and she knew that it would mean disaster for Morrowind and Cyrodiil alike."

Martin took this in, wincing every time Mia was mentioned. His tortured expression must have deepened. Matti was murmuring his name again but Baurus' voice drowned her out.

"That means we have time, Martin," He said and there was an excited, hard edge in his tone that reminded Martin of the 'good old days' tracking down Camoran and mixing up the recipe for conjuring his Paradise, "If Kat's with the Nerevar they won't be able to pin anything on him. Nobody in their right mind would consider trying to blame the Champion of Cyrodiil for any of this. They would have more than just the Blades to contend with if they did so."

Martin still hadn't looked away from Cosades and he saw how the older Imperial's face tightened ever so slightly at Baurus' words. He was sure Cosades was thinking what he was and he voiced it for both of them.

"Katryn is with the Nord?" As soon as Martin received an affirmative, his eyes sparked with indignant anger, "Then I've put her in danger as well. Damn it, I should never have let her go."

"If I may be bold, sire," Cosades cut in, his eyes flickering a little. He had been thinking along those lines as well but surely the Emperor couldn't blame _himself_ for a decision that Katryn had made of her own free will, "You haven't put anyone in danger. The Lady herself offered to help Lofolk and I accepted. I'm old, my lord, I wouldn't have been able to keep up with him much longer anyway and I felt I would be more help delivering her message to you."

The Emperor appeared not to have heard him. He got to his feet, much taller than he initially looked and Cosades suddenly realized why the palace had such a despondent air hanging about it. His heart sank and he wondered when the princess had been taken. Martin was pacing in front of the windows and Cosades watched him closely. He looked like a man hunted and the old Imperial knew the reason for that now, but he was pacing with a purpose and the Redguard Cosades recognized as the Emperor's right hand was looking at him expectantly, as if he knew what Martin was going to say before he even spoke.

"Gwynyth will take care of it, Martin," Baurus said and though his tone was confidant, he was imploring Martin to have the same belief, "She knows what she's doing and she'll fight to the end for... for everyone here."

Cosades was no fool. He caught how carefully the Redguard finished that thought and what was more, he caught Martin's reaction. The pale blue eyes flickered and the corners of his mouth quirked a little. _Of course!_ Cosades thought, realization washing over him. That was why Katryn had caught herself numerous times almost saying the Emperor's first name, why she flushed just that little bit when Cosades told her that her lord was a lucky man to have her around, why she was so impervious to Deryl's obvious attraction for her and then the Imperial almost winced. Too bad he had not seen it sooner. He could have given the Nord a warning to keep away from her, not that the young man would have listened. On the one hand he could learn a valuable lesson in humility from Katryn Gwynyth and on the other... the Elf may end up killing him before he even got halfway through his tasks.

"She was very confidant, my lord," Cosades tacked on and then took a leap, "And am I to understand the young princess was taken?"

By Martin's clenched fists and jaw, he saw that he guessed right and he bowed his head. He couldn't help but be thankful that Katryn had sent him instead of making the trip back here. She would have seen it as her own personal failure and that was the last thing that any of them needed now. If she lost faith, the Emperor would lose faith. It was that simple. Cosades never took into account for a moment that Martin's relationship with his champion was much more complicated than anyone could have guessed. The Imperial merely assumed that the Emperor had sent his lover since she was the most learned in all of this. He never once considered their love tried and practically broken because... well, it just was not an option.

* * *

Mia glared murderously across the flickering fire at the two Elves. They had traveled all that first night and most of the next day and finally bedded down after managing to put a good 15 miles between themselves and the Imperial City. Not able to take the ordinary means of travel, they were reduced to horses and walking, never using the main road but always staying in view of it. Their track was taking them pretty much due east and Mia knew that they were most likely heading to Morrowind. Her terror was still overwhelming but she was finding that her anger at the two helped to ease this. She knew they couldn't kill her and that made her even more bold. She had screamed bloody murder when the one, Mart, who had carried her down the palace wall, lifted the spell turning her into a mute and so she had been kept silent for most of the trip. The other, Remar, still looked at her with that same hate as the first night and it sent chills down her spine. He had made it very clear that she was the one he wanted to kill then and the servant girl was merely a substitution, for now. There had been a total of 6 escape attempts so far, and Remar had caught her that last time, just three hours ago, tackling her to the ground and leaving her body bruised and battered. He slapped her a second time and almost came to blows with Mart who immediately defended her.

Mart almost made her feel rather safe but then she would remember it being his order to take care of the servant and her stomach clenched with fear and her heart turned cold against him. It didn't matter that he didn't commit the murder, he was still just as responsible and the only reason he positioned himself between Remar and her was because he was afraid of getting reprimanded when they reached their destination.

The princess shifted on the hard ground and dropped her gaze to the flames. Her legs were sore with the riding and her back hurt from Remar's tackle. Mart had once more bound her ankles but he left her hands free and she knew that if she chose, she would be able to speak. Her voice was hoarse with disuse and they hadn't passed a town or village for miles, it wouldn't be any use to start screaming. The Elves, Mart a Bosmer and Remar a mix of a Dunmer and Altmer, were silent as well. Remar was stretched on his back, his pale gold eyes, so striking in his grey-blue skinned face, were flickering everywhere and each time they landed on Mia they flashed darkly. Mart was more at attention, sitting so he could lean against one of the saddles and he was deep in thought, hazel eyes fixed on the embers in the fire. Mia studied him openly, wondering why someone who seemed at times to have a good heart would be involved with a kidnapping. He looked like a normal Bosmer, rather short and seemingly unimpressive, but his shoulders were powerful and the ruthless expression that entered his gaze was telling. He wouldn't hesitate to kill if he had to and Mia knew that firsthand.

"Why?" She asked and her voice was even worse than she thought. The word came out in a hoarse whisper but she didn't repeat herself, there's no way they couldn't hear her.

"Shut up," Remar snapped as Mart's head came up and he looked at her.

Mia had been asking every chance she got why they were doing this and Remar's response was always the same while Mart stayed maddeningly taciturn. His hazel eyes searched hers and although she had the peculiar sensation of being completely exposed to him, the princess stared stubbornly back, setting her chin and glad for the first time that it made her look more like her father than her mother when she did so.

"Following orders, Princess," He answered in his rather raspy voice and glanced down at his hands. He had been sharpening a long ebony knife earlier and was now flipping it idly between his slim, graceful fingers.

Mia watched as the blade caught the firelight but she knew that Mart's playing with the knife was absentminded. Remar would have done so as a threatening gesture, telling her wordlessly he wouldn't be afraid of using it on her, while Mart hadn't even thought he was giving that impression. She looked at his face again and eased her weight, trying to relieve the needling pain in her lower back.

"I'd expect that from some mindless drone like him," She replied with a gesture to Remar who snarled in his throat and muttered curses in his own language, all of which Mia ignored as she added, "I just don't understand why _you_ do this."

"And you never will, little-"

"Take a walk, Remar, or go to sleep," Mart never raised his voice, didn't look away from Mia, and missed the poison in Remar's answering glare, "She asked me, I'll answer."

Mia's brows shot up in surprise. After all the other refusals, she hadn't expected this to work at all and she didn't bother to hide her astonishment. Remar didn't either. He bolted upright and glared at Mart.

"You know we can't-"

"We were hired by the Nerevar, Princess," Mart interrupted smoothly and he completely ignored Remar. Mia's gaze was fixed on him and he still hadn't looked away from her, "And the reason that we haven't killed you is that he wants the ransom. Your father loves you very much, yes? Lofolk intends on finding out just how much; what exactly your life is worth to the Emperor of Cyrodiil."

The princess was riveted to him and she felt tears burn in her eyes. Before she could compose herself, Remar let out a dark, mocking chuckle and Mia snapped. Her slender body slumped to the ground and, burying her face in her arms, she lost herself to an overwhelming grief.

* * *

"We may have a problem," Heidl said patiently as he seated himself in Nema Bargth's clean, rather cluttered living room. He looked around with affected interest and found that Nema lived much like the Ashlanders. She kept the same simplicity and the meager furniture and rugs were durable and had clearly been around for some time. The house was small, one of those that had stairs leading to an attic and only one bedroom which he could see through an open door to his left. The covers were rumpled and he didn't want to think about where the Dremora might sleep, "By all accounts the kidnapping went well and Septim is keeping it quiet, like we thought. But the Nerevar is no longer traveling alone."

Nema, fully disgruntled by this interruption, tugged at the robe she had hastily thrown on and frowned down at the Bosmer. She hadn't offered anything to drink, didn't invite him to sit and wanted him to feel awkward and out of place here since he decided to intrude on her in the middle of the night. Instead she was the one that was thrown off balance and it made her even more confrontational.

"What do you mean, no longer traveling alone?" She asked and felt rather than saw Yvex as he leaned against the doorway to the little kitchen at her right, "He was alone apart from Cosades and I thought-"

"Cauis Cosades has returned to the Imperial City and is currently under the Emperor's roof," Heidl went on and his cool, nearly dead hazel eyes locked on Nema's, "My spies have reported that Deryl Lofolk is now in the company of a Dunmer. A young female Elf with skin more blue than black and eyes the color of fire."

Nema snorted and then couldn't help but let out an icy bark of laughter.

"You're serious?" She questioned and hated the unease she felt when she considered that he was telling the truth, that this wasn't some elaborate joke or a ruse to keep her and Yvex from knowing the whole situation, "The Champion of Cyrodiil protecting the Nerevar? What in the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"We wait," Heidl's practicality was envious and he knew how dangerous it was to inform her of this new development. Her loyalty to this cause was shaky at best and completely non-existent at the worst and her first instinct would be to drop him because it worked to her advantage, "This may work out in the end for us. Septim will protect his Champion to the death and that means he will be on the side of the Nerevar as well. That's bad news for us of course but when you take into account his real, true feelings for Katryn Gwynyth, we might as well been handed the ultimate weapon."

Nema's curiousity piqued and she cocked her head at him, studying him closely. The little Bosmer looked even more diabolical than usual. His eyes were burning with a single-minded wickedness and she knew that he must have found out something particularly damning to Septim to cause him to be so at ease with news that could mean their downfall and possible death. She moved forward and perched on the edge of the chair that was beside him.

"Tell me everything or we're completely lost in this."


	14. Chapter 14

"Holamayn has been protected like this for years," Miro was saying as the three of them trudged up the hill towards where she had insisted the monastery was located, "It was a lucky thing you got such an early start to Vivec. The monastery doors will only open at dawn or dusk and we should just make it."

Unbidden and very welcome, Gozrak came into Katryn's thoughts and her mind went back to their trek to Azura's shrine and their wait for dusk before given the Gutted Mine task. And now that she was presently in Azura's Coast Region, she could practically hear his voice demanding to know why Azura had that fascination with the setting and rising sun. Not that she would be able to answer him but the thought was still a good one, especially considering how frustrated and angry she was with Deryl. At least the Nord seemed to realize he had gone a step too far. He hadn't apologized and if Katryn was honest with herself she wasn't expecting him to. He had meant every word and despite the painful memories they dredged up, the reminder of how her walls had hurt Martin, the man she still desperately loved, she had to respect Deryl's stalwartness. Her realization of just how sharp he really was, was also grudgingly growing deeper. She knew she would have to be very careful in the future with how apparent her emotions could be concerning Martin. The mere thought of Deryl finding that out made her blood run cold and there was no way he would ever let her alone about it.

She felt his questioning gaze on her for another of numerous times since her mini explosion. He studied her avidly as though searching for any easing of her stony silence and she hoped that he was once more disappointed. She hadn't given in yet and it had been at least three or four hours which forced him to make conversation with Miro. By all outward appearances the Nord seemed to enjoy this and it was only when he looked at Katryn with that rather shuttered, utterly exposing gaze, that she could see how her response to him grated.

"Good," Deryl replied and his eyes didn't leave the Elf, "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Katryn's lips curled up into a grim smile and her flaming eyes danced a little wickedly. They had taken the boat from Ebonheart to a nearby island where there was a temple run by a handful of people and capable of teleporting them to the east coast of Morrowind. From the temple there, they began their trek to Holamayn. The weather here was only slightly better than Ebonheart and Vivec. The only improvement was the raindrops were smaller and then just a little. All in all with Deryl on the outs where Katryn was concerned, the fact that all three of them now had rain water seeping through their clothes and the knowledge that things were going to get worse than this, it was a grueling trip.

"What time is it now, do you think?" Miro asked suddenly, breaking the rather awkward silence between her companions and proving that she was very much a priestess.

Katryn and Deryl both looked up, judging where the sun was in the sky, no easy task considering the cloud cover, and answered her in unison,

"Between half after 5 and 6 o'clock."

The Elf's gaze snapped to Deryl's only to see that he was grinning. The hood of his cloak was soaked through and allowing water to trickle down into his eyebrows and long eyelashes. Strands of blonde hair that were visible were also dripping and his eyes, green again, were amused.

"Good to hear your voice again, hero."

She ignored him and went back to focusing on their path. It was still climbing and becoming narrow enough that they would soon have to go single file. She tried to shut him out like she had been doing and let her ears pick up the gulls' song and the crash of the waves against the shore below them.

Deryl was having none of it.

"You have 'L' next," He observed, determined to make her talk to _him_ this time and not Miro, "A nice easy one. I can even help you if you want."

Katryn drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. For all those flashes of brilliance she had seen from him, he could be so incredibly dense!

"Loves life, a laugh, learned, lovable, lo-"

" _You_ are the one that wants the rules to be followed and this is _my_ game, remember?" She interrupted and saw the triumph spark in his eyes, "And I have decided you are breaking the rules, which excludes you from playing. Get used to it."

Before Deryl could respond, they crested the hill and Miro's voice cut through the air,

"Here it is."

Katryn allowed her own triumph to shine through and she looked around in genuine curiousity. They were atop a high bluff which continued to rear up into the sky ahead of them. The surface was jagged and dangerous and there was no clear way to climb up, safely, any further. The area in which they stood was broad, flat and completely denuded of the shrubs that had lined their path up. The wind they had been sheltered from on their hike now whistled sharply through the rocks and threw the rain up into their faces, trying to push the hoods from their heads. Deryl and Miro immediately hunkered behind a good sized boulder right at the beginning of the trail while Katryn walked to the edge of the bluff. Even with the glowering sky and nasty weather, the sight of the sea took her breath from her. It spread endlessly and she saw just how powerful the winds were becoming out there. The white crests of the waves were kicked up and spiraled into the air, making the salt tang on the wind even stronger. She felt the sharp pang of homesickness for her little cabin and the strip of beach that had become so important to her and for a moment, she allowed herself to dwell on it. Normally she never would have. Missing home was a distraction and that wasn't something that she wanted clouding her head and heart and taking away that ease she always had when making decisions.

She didn't know how long she stood there but Deryl's voice was suddenly shouting her name over the wind and it was then that she could hear the sharp grindings of stone on stone. Turning quickly and not liking the almost frightened note in his voice, she saw that the sheer rock bluff was trembling as though the wind had become too much for it. She now understood Deryl's fear and probably would have shared it if Miro hadn't stepped forward and walked boldly to the wall of rock. The priestess murmured an incantation and stroked the shaking stone like she was soothing it. Immediately the tremors eased and a small, man-sized section of rock was slipping away, disappearing from sight as though it never existed in the first place. Miro beckoned them and stepped forward into the passage that yawned before her.

Katryn moved without thinking twice and started when Deryl grabbed her elbow rather roughly. She tipped her head to look at him and saw that he truly was nervous now. His handsome face was hard to read and he was eying the newly opened passage with trepidation.

"You really think this is a good idea?" He asked and his fingers tightened a little more to the point where it was almost painful.

"Do not be ridiculous," The Elf answered and tried to pry herself free, not wanting to touch him, "Cauis trusted Miro and I wouldn't have risked my neck to get her out of the Ministry if I believed it to be the wrong thing to do. Now come on, let's get out of this weather," When Deryl still hesitated, Katryn tipped her head closer and added confidentially, "Don't worry, Lofolk. If it is as bad as corprus, you at least will be safe."

She pulled her arm from his grasp and went after Miro. The Nord remained poised for a moment, watching Katryn's slender form disappear into the dimly lit passage. Cursing underneath his breath and once again seeing just why this woman had become a champion, he plunged after her. His pride was wounded by the fact that an Elf ⅓ his size was absolutely fearless while he was the hesitant one.

Katryn had caught up with Miro and they were conversing quietly in Elvish while they waited for him. The tunnel had come to an abrupt end and the flickering torchlight gleamed off the damp walls. His eyes went around in confusion and then he looked at Miro.

"Is this your fortress?" He asked, not understanding why they were in a dank cave and feeling a little left out as he realized he couldn't understand a word of what they were saying.

"Holamayn is not a fortress," Miro answered and turned her attention to the rock wall, "It is meant as a safe house, of sorts. The Dissidents have never been a popular group and this is one of few places that we are free to be ourselves without worry of persecution. But this topic is better discussed with Gilvas."

She placed both hands on the stone, spreading her slim fingers and murmuring softly. The wall trembled and began sliding away. Light flooded the dim corridor as another doorway opened. It was hard to remember they were in a cave when they took in their new surroundings. The hard, cold floors were covered with brightly colored rugs and though the furniture and cushions were clearly handmade there in Holamayn, they were comfortable and substantial. Lamps were hung from the walls and magic caused the fireplaces to burn with very little smoke.

"Mehra?!" A voice called, "You are alive! Praise Vivec!"

An elderly Dunmer was crossing the room to them. His scarlet eyes were milky with old age and the once supple black skin was grey tinged and wrinkled.

"Gilvas, we are in need of your counsel," Miro said urgently and waved one hand towards the others.

Gilvas was grasping her other hand as his gaze went over Katryn and Deryl. The Nord was still uneasy and he was hovering close to Katryn's elbow. The elder Dunmer could see this and he smiled slightly.

"At ease, son," He said mildly and his voice was dry and scratchy though the calm he radiated was nearly stronger than Steffan's, "You are safe here and we are in your debt for bringing us our Mehra."

Miro smiled fondly at the old Elf and squeezed his hand. Others in the large room murmured their agreement and Katryn suddenly realized that they had become the center of attention. She could practically feel Deryl's thoughts and she spoke quickly before he could say something stupid about a monetary thanks being more welcome.

"Please, sir, can we go somewhere private to speak? Time is of the essence for us," Katryn kept her voice cool and polite and Gilvas turned to study her with wise eyes.

"Surely you will stay and let us feed you tonight?" He replied and gestured to the room as a whole, "We desire to get to know this Nerevar Reborn and the heroes that have given us reason to hope. Please, Lady, do not deny us this."

Katryn opened her mouth to respond and tried to think of the right words to turn him down gently when Deryl cut in.

"He's right, Kat, you can't take that away from them."

Her mouth closed with a snap and she arched a brow, turning to look at him and wondering what brought on this change so quickly. His eyes were not focused on her or the other two Dunmer, instead he was looking across the room at a beautiful young Altmer girl whose pale brown eyes were glowing with admiration for him. Resisting the urge to elbow him sharply in the ribs and biting her tongue to keep from snapping, Katryn turned back to Gilvas and spread her arms, forcing a smile.

"It seems I am out numbered," She said pleasantly and, much to her dismay, heard the cool almost jealous tone in her voice, "Deryl is right. I have been pressing too hard; it will be a relief to relax for a moment."

Gilvas watched her sharply and recognition suddenly flooded the scarlet eyes. He patted Miro's hand and released her as he inclined his head to Katryn.

"But you will not rest easy until we have spoken," He responded and Katryn dropped her arms, shrugging slightly as she smiled at him. The old Elf stepped forward and took her elbow, drawing her with him as he walked towards another passage that connected with the main room, "Then come, Lady, and you can question me as long as you like."

Katryn was about to call Deryl's name, but it wasn't necessary. He and Miro were following behind and even with the slightest glance, Katryn could see that he had caught her tone and she hated herself for that slip. _What is the matter with me?!_ She thought in agony. Her cheeks were burning a little and she wished someone would say something to distract from that rather awkward scene. Deryl was not someone she wanted to be involved with and she knew that he was no more than a distraction. Every time she thought about his faults and virtues, not many, she would compare him with Martin and her priest always came out ahead. It was proof that she still fiercely loved and wanted Martin, so why in the hell did Deryl have such a hold over her? And that was the only thing she had come up with so far, the only thing that made her feel a little bit better about it: he was her distraction, he gave her the opportunity to be Katryn Gwynyth again, not the Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodiil. Katryn Gwynyth, the Elf no man had easily won over, the Elf that wasn't swayed by traditional means of courting and she liked being in that position again.

They entered a small sitting room and Gilvas invited them to sit as they dropped their packs by the door and Miro immediately began preparing drinks. The old Elf sat across from Katryn and fixed her with his knowing scarlet gaze.

"Cyrodiil is not the only country in your debt, Lady Gwynyth," His dry voice cut through her frustrated thoughts, "Without your assistance and bravery, all of Tamriel would have been lost. We are more in your debt than anyone can fully realize."

Katryn let out a soft breath, her lips curling into that self-deprecating smile that Deryl had never understood and in all likelihood never would. She remained quiet for a moment and the Nord studied her, wondering what she was thinking. That note in her voice earlier had thrown him and he couldn't help but be a little smug about it. There were a lot of women like her who convinced themselves they hated him and that made their fights and eventual surrender all the sweeter.

"Please, my lord," She finally answered and met the Elf's gaze, "I was doing what I had to and like I've told... everyone, I was not alone. I'm not the only yester year hero."

"Just the most well known?"

"Just the most unlikely," She corrected with another smile and then made a wave with one hand that was meant for him to take in her stature, "I'm not an impressive figure, I don't have any outstanding skills, unless one counts the archery. I am not a powerful mage or undefeated warrior. There were many victories, yes, but I have been broken and beaten so often it's a wonder I'm still whole. All of us were ordinary people then and we still are now."

"Which is why everyone holds you in such high regard," Gilvas told her and saw that she wasn't going to be convinced no matter what he might say. But she was listening and that was the most important thing, "You were ordinary citizens that realized the task before you was unattainable when you started and you didn't let that stop you. All of you became heroes because you fought for freedom and family; you fought to pass on this same way of life to your children and children's children. And victory was yours, hard-won and not without deep grief, but your perseverance and sheer faith in success are traits that those who did not fight and were not there will never understand."

Katryn's expression never changed as she drank in these words and took them to heart. She knew why people loved her and were so willingly compliant but she hadn't heard it put quite that way and she rather liked it. It made more sense to her when seen in that light but she still would never consider herself any great personage.

"You see, hero?" Deryl questioned and was at once his old, happy-go-lucky self that reminded her so much of a puppy, "People _want_ to love you, so lower the defenses."

"Where you are concerned, Lofolk?" She answered mildly and took the cup Miro extended her with thanks, "Never."

Gilvas smiled patiently and noticed that the Nord was determined to be a more traditional hero: taking women and wine and food whenever and wherever he could and the Elf's first thought was that he would need to start on more tasks right away. Katryn's insistence to keep moving was suddenly made clear, but he was not going to go back on his word now.

"You had questions of me," He cut in and turned the conversation back to the Nerevarine cult with admirable ease, "Ask away."

Katryn sent a quick look at Deryl who shrugged his broad shoulders and gave her a nod, telling her to take the lead.

"Caius Cosades and Mehra were helping Deryl with the Lost Prophecies," She explained slowly and again glanced at the Nord as if to make sure she was on the right track, "The wise woman of the Urshilaku Camp, Nibani Maesa, is also involved with this. From what I gathered from Cosades, she and the Ashkhan are ready to pledge their tribes' loyalties to Deryl after one more trial and she wouldn't speak further on the Lost Prophecies without that confirmation. Cosades was under the impression that she simply wanted more information on the Prophecies for herself but... you and I both know that Ashlanders' rules are best to be followed if you want something from them."

Gilvas inclined his head and smiled at Katryn.

"Indeed. Cauis Cosades chose well when he appointed you as companion for Deryl," The scarlet eyes fixed on the Nord, "You would be wise to remember this, my boy."

"Oh, our hero has given me plenty of reasons to follow her anywhere," Deryl answered and grinned crookedly at Katryn.

She arched one brow and tilted closer to his chair. His eyes sparked with pleasant surprise and she immediately wanted to knock him down several notches.

"Lugubrious," She muttered and again received that shot of vindictive pleasure when he frowned at her, clearly not understanding the word. It wasn't exactly what she had wanted to use but his attempts to win her _were_ becoming incredibly sad.

"No words I can't understand," He replied and they both seemed to have forgotten the others in the room, once more falling short of Katryn's promise to herself to pay attention.

"But that narrows the choices drastically," Her voice was biting in its sarcasm, "And it is my game."

"Mehra, my dear, fetch the copies of the Prophecies from my desk, if you would," Gilvas was saying and Katryn immediately turned her attention back to him. The old Elf was amused at their antics although his lips had pressed together momentarily to keep his annoyance at bay, "My review of the Apographa has revealed two passages that deal with the Nerevarine cult and there are also copies of the two most well known Ashlander prophecies. Oh, Mehra, Kagrenac's Tools as well, please."

"Here you are," Miro said cheerfully as she placed the copied papers and a leather bound document down on the table in front of Katryn and Deryl.

The Elf immediately sat forward and took up the copied pages while Deryl met Gilvas' eyes.

"Apographa?" He repeated.

"Yes, the Apographa are hidden writings," The old Elf answered, "It is a companion to the Heirographa. The Heirographa are the Temple writings donated by the ancient priests and available to any priest or priestess that wishes to read them."

"The Apographa are said to be the secrets only known to the highest priests in any order and those involved with the inquisitions," Katryn added when Gilvas paused to sip at his red wine, "You have collected some of the secrets, then? That is no small feat."

Gilvas was looking at her with admiration shining in his eyes. He had known that the young Elf was quite intelligent, one look at her could tell anyone that, but he hadn't expected her to know so much.

"You are familiar with the Temple? Did you have aspirations to become a priestess?"

Deryl's expression of sheer alarm was almost enough to make her laugh as she shook her head. She examined the pages in her hands as she answered,

"No, my lord, merely curious. My brother was a Temple attendant for 7 years and I would visit him. His master was a priest that immersed himself into the study more than the practice and Kale's eagerness to know everything made the priest more than willing to share all that he learned. Kale has always been one for talk and I apparently was made to listen. So I know more than most would think."

"So it seems," Gilvas was still impressed, "But the Lost Prophecies were not anything this priest ever came across; nothing that your brother mentioned?"

"Oh, I know the Ahslander prophecies," She replied and her tone was flippant. These writings meant nothing to her other than an interesting historical study and she was making that obvious, "'When earth is sundered, and skies choked black; And sleepers serve the seven curses; To the hearth there comes a stranger; Journeyed far 'neath moon and star. Though stark-born to sire uncertain; His aspect marks his certain fate. Wicked stalk him, righteous curse him. Prophets speak, but all deny. Many trials make manifest; The stranger's fate, the curses' bane. Many touchstones try the stranger. Many fall, but one remains.'"

Katryn realized that Deryl's gravelly voice had joined hers and when they finished the last stanza, she looked at him with open astonishment.

"Impressive."

"You already used 'I'," He reminded with a grin.

"At least it's one you can understand," Her fire colored eyes went back to Gilvas whose gaze was even more distant than before. He was clearly still caught up in the words of the prophecy and one look at Miro said she was as well. Katryn tempered her voice to be more gentle as she broke their reveries with another question, "My lord, do you have any explanations for these other two verses?"

"'From seventh sign of eleventh generation, Neither Hound nor Guar, nor Seed nor Harrow, But Dragon-born and far-star-marked, Outlander Incarnate beneath Red Mountain, Blessed Guest counters seven curses, Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade, To reap the harvest of the unmourned house,'" Gilvas' scratchy voice was perfect for the recital of the verses and both Katryn and Deryl were as enthralled at Miro, "There is a rough outline of what this one might mean. An outlander, you, my son, at the start welcomed as a guest like all outlanders are, but when he takes on the Seven Curses of the Ashlanders' prophecies, things go awry. No one is ready to except a foreigner as one to bring justice to the Houses of Dagoth and Dwemer. The mere idea that Nerevar Reborn is not of Elven descent could be the reason why that particular prophecy was lost. You recited 'The Stranger', do you know 'The Seven Visions'?"

"Not by heart."

"'Seven trials; What he puts his hand to, that shall be done. What is left undone, that shall be done. First trial; On a certain day to uncertain parents, Incarnate moon and star reborn. Second trial; Neither blight nor age can harm him. The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies. Third trial; In caverns dark Azura's eye sees, and makes to shine the moon and star. Fourth trial; A stranger's voice unites the Houses. Three Halls call him Hortator. Fifth trial; A stranger's hand unites the Velothi. Four Tribes call him Nerevarine. Sixth trial; He honors blood of the tribe unmourned. He eats their sin, and is reborn. Seventh trial; His mercy frees the cursed false gods, Binds the broken, redeems the mad. One destiny;  
He speaks the law for Veloth's people. He speaks for their land, and names them great.'"

Deryl had fallen silent and his expression was shuttered, like he was considering Gilvas' words and not at all happy with what they could mean. Katryn once more was the one to take initiative and ask the questions that needed answered,

"And this other you found seems straight forward. 'The Seven Curses'. 'Through the doors of the unmourned house, where scoffers scoff and schemers scheme, from the halls of the oath-breaking house, rings seven curses of gods blasphemed. First curse, Curse-of-Fire; second curse, Curse-of-Ash; third curse, Curse-of-Flesh; fourth curse, Curse-of-Ghosts; fifth curse, Curse-of-Seed; sixth curse, Curse-of-Despair; seventh curse, Curse-of-Dreams.' You've passed one at least."

"And the remaining ones sound like such fun," Deryl interrupted drily and his eyes were dark, "I think I might have been better off not knowing what was ahead. That way I would just think the world was crazy, not me. Who in their right mind would go through any of this after they know what to expect?"

"But you don't," Katryn's voice wasn't quite as sharp as she was hoping it would be and then she realized that maybe this was a better tactic. The Nord at least met her gaze and didn't look like he was going to blow up at her, "No one knows what to expect of any of these because they haven't been fulfilled. Do you not see what this means, Deryl? You've made it through one of the curses and the Stranger prophecy fits you: you are a foreigner here in Morrowind, 'journeyed far 'neath moon and star; though stark-born to sire uncertain', you were raised by your grandparents never knowing your mother and father, which is one of the trials; 'the stranger's fate, the curses' bane'... Corprus! And that means another trial is done. 'Neither blight nor age can harm him, the curse of flesh before him flies'. Three verses describing you, Deryl, one curse and two trials passed. Everything seems to be pointing to you and you now have allies. You can't be giving up that easily?"

"I didn't say I was giving up," He replied and was surprised at how hard her apparent disappointment hit him. Her anger and sarcasm he could take without so much as a flinch, but disappointment? Never, and that shook him. He had known this girl for barely 24 hours and she had already become a lifeline for him; he wasn't even going to try to figure that one out, "I'm just... I mean, I have reason to complain, right? If this is going to be what we have to deal with in the next few weeks than I think a little complaining now won't kill anyone."

Katryn snorted, shaking her head at him. Her flaming eyes flared up more brightly and he saw with triumph that he had once again succeeded in shocking and amusing her.

"You are right, my boy, but I have invited you both to stay and allow us to entertain you," Gilvas stood slowly and looked even more like an old man, "So tonight we will forget about these prophecies as best we can and enjoy this moment of celebration since our daughter Mehra has been returned to us."

Deryl at once bounded to his feet and Katryn could tell by the gleam in his eyes, grey now, that he was eager to find that Altmer girl. Sighing quietly, she stood as well. She wasn't about to be his escort for the night but she thought that maybe she could distract him to the point where he wouldn't break the poor girl's heart too badly.


	15. Chapter 15

"Rest, Kerlan," Bhaer's gruff voice said as he removed his pack and slung it underneath the low hanging branches of a nearby tree, "You're wearing yourself thin, lad."

Len scowled but didn't argue as he slowly crouched, wincing at the protest in his ribs and feeling the wrench in his ankle now more strongly than ever. He eased himself to the damp grass and cautiously stroked Shiel's head as she perched on her haunches next to him. The wolf was becoming used to his presence but that didn't mean he was willing to trust her just yet. They had been traveling for a day and a half now and the walking and sleeping on the ground were taking its toll on Len's still recovering body. Ald'ruhn had been closer to the cave, just a day's ride, but there was no teleportation platform and so they were forced to trek even further south to Caldera, yet another day's ride, if they had horses. With luck they would reach Caldera the day after tomorrow. It was a fairly new town and run almost entirely by Cyrodiil Imperials. The upshot of this was that teleportation to Cyrodiil would be immediately available and that, more than anything, was what Len wanted. But Bhaer was going so slow! The Altmer knew it was for him and his first solution had been to stop in at Ald'ruhn and purchase horses which Bhaer rejected immediately. The Nord had spread his powerful arms with a self-mocking smile and asked,

"Do I give the impression of being rich enough to buy or rent horses, lad?"

Len had to grudgingly; reluctantly agree with that and inwardly groaned at the loss of his money bag. The Emperor had fit him with enough gold to buy whatever couldn't be coaxed from his informants and was now long gone.

"We don't have to stop again, Bhaer. I'm strong enough to go on," Len said and cursed silently when he heard how breathless he sounded.

The Nord didn't reply. He merely smiled a little and dug in his pack for the jerky that had become their staple food. He tossed a hunk to the Altmer and then one to the wolf before seating himself and eating as well.

"You enjoy serving the Emperor?" Bhaer asked suddenly, randomly.

Len glanced up in surprise as he tore another piece of the jerky with his fingers. The missing teeth made it hard to bite anything off anymore. The Nord was watching the horizon and didn't seem too interested in getting his question answered but Len was used to seeing Bhaer perfectly at ease and still capable of killing in a move that was too fast to follow.

"Yes, I've never known anything else," He replied and followed Bhaer's gaze. The cave where the Nord lived was situated in the mountain range that separated the West Gash and the Ashlands regions and so their travels had been an interesting mixture of barren, dust covered landscapes and then scenes like this where the valley below them was a lush green and the short, wind stunted trees were evergreens. A river flowed through the valley and was swollen with the fall rains, sparkling as it ran away from them towards the west where it would empty at the Inner Sea, "I was born in the Imperial City and my father was a palace guard for years. I suppose I followed in his footsteps."

"You're not a Blade then?"

"No," Len allowed a slightly bitter smile, "My father served under Uriel Septim for the last half of his career when he wanted to make the transition into the Blades' ranks. Septim was less than receptive of... inhuman soldiers within his guard at the time and my father never got his chance. He held Septim and Jauffre Mel personally responsible; Mel more so. He was a friend of Father's, they had been in the Arena together and Mel had always made it a point to support the underdog. Father felt that Mel could have convinced Septim to allow their entire group to join the Blades but Mel and Baurus Coll were the only ones chosen. It isn't fair for my father to do so, I know, but he's always been stubborn about these things and he has had to live the past 16 years in regrets."

Bhaer was surprised to hear Len speak so much of his family. The Altmer had always been very close-lipped about anything personal and to have him opening up so wholly was quite something. He cocked his head, his brown eyes curious.

"Regrets? He stood his ground, what should he regret?"

"Even you know the finer points of Cyrodiil's recovery," Len replied and his voice wasn't annoyed or superior, he was simply stating a fact, "Jauffre Mel died on the battlefield at Bruma. My father had been so angry with him after the fiasco with Septim, he had pretty much cut all ties with Mel. He wanted nothing to do with the Blades and he was particularly adamant that his sons never join, no matter how excepting Uriel Septim had become or how much Mel took on by himself with the overseeing. His regrets were that he lost a friend on that day, granted a friend he hadn't spoken to in years, but in the Arena he formed a brotherhood with a few fellow warriors and Mel was one of them. And the cardinal rule was that you never left one behind. He felt for all those years that that's exactly what Mel and Coll had done but he realized later it was his own pride preventing him from making amends. He knows now that he shouldn't ever have expected Mel to sway the Emperor and he wished that he had had a chance to tell him that."

"But if he feels that way now, you could still join the Blades if that's what you wanted to do. There's no one stopping you. That was your pa's battle and he shouldn't have involved his boys."

Len felt a twinge of envy for the Nord's freedom and then stifled it with the guilt that swept through him. He loved his father, looked up to him and he knew that all he had wanted was the very best for his sons.

"You asked if I was happy serving the Emperor," He responded slowly, thinking carefully about what he was saying. These were the thoughts that had gone through his head every year now since his father's change of heart and he still wasn't sure what he truly felt about it, "Which means, am I happy being inside the palace, watching over the princess and mainly playing something of a nanny or watchdog? And the answer is... yes, I am. There is a certainty to my position. I'm trusted implicitly and am willing to die to protect the royal family. I'm serving under Baurus Coll who is one of the most brilliant generals that Cyrodiil has ever seen and what's more, there's no end to how much I can learn from the men I serve with. Yes, I like it very much."

Bhaer saw there what he wanted to see all along. Pure and utter faith. The Nord knew that the next few days were not going to be easy. There was no telling what they would find when they reached the palace and his feeling of foreboding had been growing stronger and stronger. No news had reached them either way of the condition of the Emperor and his daughter and it was making Bhaer nervous. He knew it could mean that everything was indeed just fine, but he had never ignored these gut feelings before and he wasn't willing to now. Not being so involved with the palace, it would be easy for him to remain aloof and impartial; it was Len he was worried about. The Altmer had such an intense connection with the royal family that Bhaer was concerned it would shatter him if he happened to fail and the passion that was in the Elf's eyes just then, the set of his jaw, again the absolute _faith_ was proof enough. Len Kerlan would persevere no matter what happened.

* * *

"There's really no quick way to get there, is there?" Deryl questioned, more an an observation, as they slogged through mushy snow along the coast, "At least this time I have company, although I can't say she actually talks to me."

"I talk to you," Katryn defended, her tone mild, "You just hardly make it worth the effort."

"Now, you see, that's not talking really," Deryl affected a rather wounded air, "It can't be a conversation if one or the other is determined to hurt with their words. Then it just becomes a fight."

Katryn couldn't help but grin at that. He was right, after all, and he said it with such perfectly mocking hurt that she was at once amused. They had remained at Holamayn one night and left in the early morning hours, much to Deryl's disgust. The priests had stocked their packs well with herbs and potions, whetstones for sharpening, dried food that would last for days, arrows, blankets, tinderboxes, anything they believed their two heroes would need. Deryl's eyes had lit up when he saw just how many bottles of ale and wine the men and women had managed to stow in their bags and Katryn made it a point to watch him carefully when they drank. He had an amazingly high threshold for alcohol but the fact that he got drunk at Holamayn was enough to make her wary. One good thing that came of the drink that night was he never did bed the pretty Altmer. Instead he became even more intent on Katryn but he was no match for her. She had seen him to bed, kept the conversation up, always leading him to believe she was joining him and waited patiently until he passed out. It wasn't hard at all and he didn't remember it the next day anyway. Now they were traveling along the northern most coast of Vvardenfell. The weather had improved a little and when they had reached Khuul via teleportation that morning, the sun was shining rather weakly through a skiff of cloud. The town was coated with snow but the further north and east they hiked, it turned into slush. A cool breeze was whipping their cloak hems, snapping them against their boots and trying to rip Katryn's hair from the coil she had wound it into. The only reason they weren't more miserable was because Deryl had kept up a steady stream of absolutely irrelevant chatter and Katryn was given chance after perfect chance to tease and mock him.

Deryl had suggested mounts for them but Katryn had argued. Horses this far north were obscenely expensive just to rent and besides, there was no guarantee that they could even get their money's worth. She had made the point that hiding from the Ordinators and whatever threats the Ashlands had in store could become conceivably more difficult if they gave somebody a greater chance at recognizing them. So they were stuck hiking and for all the Nord's initial complaining at the length of the journey without a horse, he was genuinely enjoying himself. The unease Gilvas' counsel had stoked in him seemed forgotten as his normally sunny disposition once more took hold. Besides, wooing Katryn was his priority now anyway and that would take all his efforts.

"You know, for as long as we played my game and all the questions I got to ask you, I still know very little about you, hero," He said suddenly as they crested another hill.

It was well into late afternoon now and the sun that had become a ghost shape behind the cloud cover was disappearing behind the mountains that loomed ahead of them. They would have to make camp soon, Katryn knew. She would be willing to hike most of the night; Elves could function on very little sleep. But Deryl would moan and complain and she wasn't willing to put up with that, nor did she want to end their day on this note. As soon as they stopped walking he would have more of a chance to corner her about her personal life and she did not want to have that conversation.

"Maybe I'm one of those you are destined to know very little about," She countered, deflecting again like she had been all day. He always rose to the challenge and was usually teasing back, but this time it was different.

"The only reason you would tell me that is because when you feel vulnerable, you're even more susceptible to charms, and that scares you."

"Your charms?" She said with a laugh and arched her brows at him, "Honestly, how have you survived with a head that large? At some point you won't be able to fit through the doors and you will die of exposure and starvation."

Deryl's eyes were dancing and the setting sun's poor light made them even more green than usual. He smirked at her and saw right through that deflection. Maybe his question didn't scare her, but he had struck close to home and it was obvious she didn't want to discuss this with him.

"You're evading, Kat, and I'm determined to find out why," He answered, cocking his head slightly as he turned his attention back to their path, "It's clear you like me at least a little, no matter what your barbed tongue says. You were jealous over that Altmer and stuck to me like a bur at Holamayn which means I must have _some_ sort of effect on you."

Katryn couldn't have been happier that the light was fading fast and he couldn't see her suddenly flaming cheeks. She smoothed away the incredulity in her face and made her expression entirely unreadable, something she knew she was good at.

"You need to examine that huge head of yours," She replied coolly and forced the playful lilt to remain in her voice, "I understand that emotions are hard for someone like you to read but that night all I felt was sheer pity for the girl and the reason for being a bur was so you wouldn't break her heart. What could you have offered her?"

He forced her to regret the question instantly.

"You mean other than an unforgettable night?"

"Oh, by the stars," Katryn breathed in a long-suffering sigh, "Does the fate of my country really have to rest on your shoulders?"

He hardly realized how brilliantly she had just diverted his attention as he grinned that crooked grin of his and gave a shrug of one shoulder.

"Beggars can be choosers," He recited, "But it appears authoritarian bastards can't."

Katryn chuckled and glanced up at the sky. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark and that meant soon Deryl wouldn't be able to see the hand in front of his face. She took in their surroundings and spotted a little cove of rocks off to the south where they would be sheltered from most of the winds. It was the best place they'd find at the moment.

"This way," She told him, turning away from their little path and heading for the cove, "You will be tripping over your feet soon because you won't be able to see them."

Deryl resented the words but couldn't argue with them. He followed behind her and let his thoughts drift to the bottles stowed in his pack. Taking in Katryn's slender form as she dropped her pack onto a less wet portion of grass, his body burned with desire. This was the first night they would be alone, out in the middle of nowhere and he recognized that shiver of excitement that rolled through him. The night at Cosades' house didn't count as far as he was concerned because even he realized how farfetched the notion of sleeping with a prickly Dunmer hours after they first met really was.

Katryn crouched beside her pack and tried her best to ignore the steady throb in her right shoulder. It astounded her just how much the old wound could still hurt and she realized what Matti's warning meant now. This was something she'd likely never recover from. She pulled her tent from the bag and turned to stake it and nearly collided with Deryl. The Nord was right next to her and without a word he reached out and took the heavy tent from her. She met his gaze as his fingers brushed hers and arched her brows at him.

"I'll pitch it for you," He said and proceeded to do just that.

Katryn studied him briefly and though her first reaction was a softening towards him for his kindness, she knew that he had ulterior motives. There was no way he could look at her like he did and _not_ have something up his sleeve.

"That's kind of you, but I thought maybe you could go find some firewood so I can fix something to eat?" She replied and reached for her pack again, knowing his protests before he even opened his mouth.

"You said yourself, I'll be tripping-"

"That's why we have these," She interrupted as she conjured a fireball and the torch in her hand was ignited. The flames lit up their faces and his eyes were that indeterminate shade of blue again.

"Why don't you just use that to make the fire?" He questioned as he accepted the torch. The teasing tone told her he was just trying to get a rise from her and she knew he was stalling for time in case her softening towards him deepened.

"I would stay warm," She agreed, "But then what happens with you?"

He was smiling a little and though his eyes were dancing, he was being quite serious in his suggestive response.

"We would just have to stick even closer."

The eyes that matched the torch rolled in annoyance and she was looking away from him, bending down to stake her tent and clearly dismissing him. Her slender hands caught the folds of the heavy canvas and he couldn't help but admire her graceful movements.

"Go find firewood and while you're at it, soak yourself in the ocean. It should be quite cold this time of year."

He chuckled appreciatively and moved off. Katryn could hear his footsteps venture further away from her towards the little plot of wind stunted trees they had passed through just moments earlier. She pitched her tent successfully and then moved to pull his from his bag. Positioning it about a yard from hers, she eyed them both for a moment and let her eyes travel up the rock wall that would be behind them. It was better than having nothing at all for a surrounding at their backs and though she didn't like the thought of being without a quick escape route, she wasn't sure how big the threat of an attack would even be, not yet anyway. The Ashlanders were still about a half day's hike along the coast according to both Deryl and her map and in all likelihood their scouts would venture this far. But they would leave well enough alone so long as Deryl and Katryn let them be, too.

Her eyes now fully adjusted to the twilight, the Elf began collecting smaller stones and fashioned a crude fire ring in front of the tents. She was pulling a pan and flask of leftover stew from her pack when Deryl's light came bouncing back to her. The Nord dumped an armload of wood beside her stones and then crouched, sinking the torch into the damp ground.

"I should tell you that even with the torch I was tripping over my feet," He said as he began piling small dry twigs before touching the torch to them slowly and bending nearer like he was trying to coax them to accept the flame.

"You not learning how to walk properly has nothing to do with me, Lofolk," Katryn answered calmly. She dumped the stew into the pan and crouched at the opposite side of the fire.

The flames were licking eagerly at the wood and she placed the pan next to her as she took a small iron grate in her hands. Deryl frowned at her, opening his mouth to ask what she was doing when she leaned forward and placed the grate over the fire. It was then he saw there were legs attached and it spanned the stone ring perfectly.

"Clever," He commented, watching as she placed the pan in the middle, "Where did you pick up something like that?"

"You forget what earned me those titles I hate so much," She answered and got back to her feet to pull out a bottle of ale and two glasses, "Traveling in the wilderness anywhere gives people the opportunities to make something like that."

"You made this?" His incredulity was insulting and he was looking at the iron grate with more than a little trepidation now; almost like he was thinking it would collapse into the flames.

"No, it was a gift," The Elf handed him one of the mugs and settled herself onto the bedroll she unfurled slightly and moved close to the flames, "Baurus Coll made it and after he married he turned it over to me. It's very useful for my potion making."

Deryl nodded his head as he mimicked her and tugged his own bedroll loose. The wet grass was less than ideal. He saw with a start that she had pitched his tent as well and he smiled slightly as he looked across the fire at her when he sat down again.

"Thanks, for setting up the tent. But I think you could've moved it a little closer to yours. Protection and all that. You wouldn't have as far to go in case you get scared."

"Trust you to twist a kind gesture," She muttered as she stirred the stew, but he could see her eyes beginning to dance a little.

He studied her, wondering what she was really thinking and then looked down at the handy grate. Reaching out, he felt one of the sturdy legs and then grunted softly in admiration.

"Baurus Coll, huh?" He repeated and sipped at the ale as though it was going to give him strength to continue, "Is he the one then?"

Katryn frowned, spreading the stew out into a thin layer at the bottom of the pan so it would heat faster. The smell was beginning to waft into the air as the fire leaped and crackled happily.

"The one? What do you mean?"

"Your walls again," He watched how her expression hardened, "Is Coll the reason?"

Just as soon as her features darkened, she was grinning broadly. Her flame colored gaze met his and seemed to be an extension of their fire with the way they were leaping in amusement. The thought was clearly a ridiculous one to her and she was chuckling when she answered him.

"No, Baurus is one of my dearest friends, along with his wife Matti. He does care for me, yes, but not in that way."

"But it is someone from those days," Deryl mused, not in the least bit perturbed by being wrong. He was still looking at her avidly and got his answer in her set jaw and the fact that she had fixed her attention on the steaming food, "You know I'll find out eventually, hero, you might as well make it a little less painful for both of us and just confess."

"Actually we'd be better off eating and going right to bed," The Elf was spooning the stew into two bowls and she handed one to him, "I will be getting you up at dawn again and you need all the sleep you can get."

He groaned, still not entirely distracted but her words did help. Sooner or later, he'd get over those walls no matter how she fought to keep him out.

It was much later when he dreamt and though he was strangely aware of it not being real, he couldn't shake himself out of it. Visions of a tall figure masked in gold flickered in and out of his head until he finally focused on them. The feeling of being trapped came over him again and he knew that if he spent too long within this bizarre half wakeful state, he may never recover. The figure was speaking to him, smiling and pleasant, but he couldn't understand a word. It reminded him of Katryn's tongue, the words smooth and almost graceful, but holding none of the Dunmer charm. The figure was trying to convince him it seemed and when one hand reached out for his elbow as though to pull him closer, Deryl was terrified. None of this made sense. He couldn't move, couldn't open his mouth to scream and his fear was making everything worse. Never having felt a horror like this before, he thrashed, trying to get away from the figure, wanting to know what abomination lay behind that gold mask. His struggles were futile and the figure was coming closer and Deryl knew if he was touched by this... thing, he would be pulled into a void and lost forever to this nightmare world. And that's when he heard a soft voice saying his name and breaking the hold he had no control over.

It was Katryn and she was calling his name gently, her accent making it sound rather like a blessing. Deryl jerked upright with a ragged gasp. His heart was beating wildly against his ribs and he had to look in every corner of his tent at least a half dozen times before he was certain that gold masked man was only a thing from a nightmare and he was alone apart from the Elf just outside.

"Are you alright?" Came her voice again, soft and concerned.

She was close to the flap of the tent and by how thick her accent was, he could tell that he had woken her. He immediately wanted to save face, to brush this off as if it was nothing, but the worry in her tone was softening him and he almost found himself spilling out his heart to her.

"It was a dream; a nightmare," He answered finally and the hoarseness to his voice surprised him.

There was a quiet shuffle, barely a whisper as Katryn sat on the grass outside and her own voice was closer now, even more tender.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He drew his knees up and perched his elbows on them, raking his fingers through his hair and holding his head.

"Not really," Wincing at the short, terse reply, he added gently, "Not now."

The Elf was silent, ignoring the damp grass beneath her as she listened to Deryl calm his breathing. She took no offense at the rejection, she had merely offered as a way to help him feel better. His moans of absolute fear while he slept had even frightened her a little and moved her to the point of freeing him of whatever nightmare that had been. If it was personal, something concerning his past, it was really none of her business. However, if it had had to do with the Nerevarine cult... well that was a different thing entirely.

"Deryl," She said slowly and the Nord felt his body reacting to the warm, coaxing note, "If this is anything to do with you being Nerevarine, then-"

"In the morning, Kat," He interrupted, "Not right now."

He made out a near inaudible sigh and once more that soft whisper of movement. She was on her feet, ready to retreat to the relative safety of her tent and something within him protested, wanting her to stay crouched there, liking the calm practicality she radiated. His dream was still so intense, so vivid, he craved the Elf's simple levelheadedness. But there was that other side of his brain, the one making itself heard in reverberating shouts instead of whispers and that one would once again take over if she stayed. It would take control of both his head and tongue and he would say something lewd and stupid, forcing her to fend him off even more ferociously. The most amazing thing about this was that was what he wanted. He had always enjoyed the chase when women like Katryn were involved and he didn't think he had ever had as much fun as he did with her when trying to wear someone down. Granted, the end of the chase was always more enjoyable, but at the moment Katryn's poisonous sarcasm seemed the bigger challenge and amusement.

"That's fair enough," Katryn replied, biting her tongue to keep from pointing out it technically already was morning. The poor boy had been through enough, "Will you be alright?"

And just like that, the shouting in his head took over; that dominate portion that wanted nothing more than to give in to the baser desires and bed Katryn Gwynyth.

"If you're really that worried, hero, come in and comfort me. I'm sure you're great at it."

Deryl could practically hear Katryn rolling her eyes at him. He knew he shouldn't have said it but he really couldn't help himself.

"Go back to sleep, Deryl," She replied quietly, choosing not to jump at that, "It's about dawn and I will get you up when I'm ready to move on."


	16. Chapter 16

It was much later when he dreamt and though he was strangely aware of it not being real, he couldn't shake himself out of it. Visions of a tall figure masked in gold flickered in and out of his head until he finally focused on them. The feeling of being trapped came over him again and he knew that if he spent too long within this bizarre half wakeful state, he may never recover. The figure was speaking to him, smiling and pleasant, but he couldn't understand a word. It reminded him of Katryn's tongue, the words smooth and almost graceful, but holding none of the Dunmer charm. The figure was trying to convince him it seemed and when one hand reached out for his elbow as though to pull him closer, Deryl was terrified. None of this made sense. He couldn't move, couldn't open his mouth to scream and his fear was making everything worse. Never having felt a horror like this before, he thrashed, trying to get away from the figure, wanting to know what abomination lay behind that gold mask. His struggles were futile and the figure was coming closer and Deryl knew if he was touched by this... thing, he would be pulled into a void and lost forever to this nightmare world. And that's when he heard a soft voice saying his name and breaking the hold he had no control over.

It was Katryn and she was calling his name gently, her accent making it sound rather like a blessing. Deryl jerked upright with a ragged gasp. His heart was beating wildly against his ribs and he had to look in every corner of his tent at least a half dozen times before he was certain that gold masked man was only a thing from a nightmare and he was alone apart from the Elf just outside.

"Are you alright?" Came her voice again, soft and concerned.

She was close to the flap of the tent and by how thick her accent was, he could tell that he had woken her. He immediately wanted to save face, to brush this off as if it was nothing, but the worry in her tone was softening him and he almost found himself spilling out his heart to her.

"It was a dream; a nightmare," He answered finally and the hoarseness to his voice surprised him.

There was a quiet shuffle, barely a whisper as Katryn sat on the grass outside and her own voice was closer now, even more tender.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He drew his knees up and perched his elbows on them, raking his fingers through his hair and holding his head.

"Not really," Wincing at the short, terse reply, he added gently, "Not now."

The Elf was silent, ignoring the damp grass beneath her as she listened to Deryl calm his breathing. She took no offense at the rejection, she had merely offered as a way to help him feel better. His moans of absolute fear while he slept had even frightened her a little and moved her to the point of freeing him of whatever nightmare that had been. If it was personal, something concerning his past, it was really none of her business. However, if it had had to do with the Nerevarine cult... well that was a different thing entirely.

"Deryl," She said slowly and the Nord felt his body reacting to the warm, coaxing note, "If this is anything to do with you being Nerevarine, then-"

"In the morning, Kat," He interrupted, "Not right now."

He made out a near inaudible sigh and once more that soft whisper of movement. She was on her feet, ready to retreat to the relative safety of her tent and something within him protested, wanting her to stay crouched there, liking the calm practicality she radiated. His dream was still so intense, so vivid, he craved the Elf's simple levelheadedness. But there was that other side of his brain, the one making itself heard in reverberating shouts instead of whispers and that one would once again take over if she stayed. It would take control of both his head and tongue and he would say something lewd and stupid, forcing her to fend him off even more ferociously. The most amazing thing about this was that was what he wanted. He had always enjoyed the chase when women like Katryn were involved and he didn't think he had ever had as much fun as he did with her when trying to wear someone down. Granted, the end of the chase was always more enjoyable, but at the moment Katryn's poisonous sarcasm seemed the bigger challenge and amusement.

"That's fair enough," Katryn replied, biting her tongue to keep from pointing out it technically already was morning. The poor boy had been through enough, "Will you be alright?"

And just like that, the shouting in his head took over; that dominate portion that wanted nothing more than to give in to the baser desires and bed Katryn Gwynyth.

"If you're really that worried, hero, come in and comfort me. I'm sure you're great at it."

Deryl could practically hear Katryn rolling her eyes at him. He knew he shouldn't have said it but he really couldn't help himself.

"Go back to sleep, Deryl," She replied quietly, choosing not to jump at that, "It's about dawn and I will get you up when I'm ready to move on."

He had barely gotten back to sleep when the Elf was calling his name again. Muttering under his breath in his own tongue, Deryl untangled himself from his blankets and poked his head out of his tent to glare at the grey dawn and heavy dark clouds that seemed to hem them in, promising snow at the most and rain at the least. Katryn shoved a mug of coffee in his hands, ignoring the fact that he was shirtless and turned back to the smouldering fire. She raked it out and watched as the embers began to fade. The Nord set the cup down carefully and pulled on two heavy shirts, throwing his cape around his shoulders before he dismantled his tent. Katryn's was already packed and the only thing lying about was a pan that held still warm ham and the pot she had boiled the coffee in.

As he folded the canvas, he watched her with interest. Her hair was loose this morning and he couldn't help but admire the look. She had clearly washed somewhere, despite the frigid weather, and the locks of hair were damp. Even in the dim light of early morning, he could see how the shades of brown merged from a red tint to a deep chocolate and amongst them all were strands of sun-died honey. Securing the bedroll, blankets and tent all to his pack and taking the coffee cup in one hand, he looked at her again. The Elf was scattering the stones that had surrounded their fire, one hand holding her thick hair away from the embers. She moved so gracefully and took on such a detached, unapproachable air that he wanted to touch her just to show her she was human. He was sure this wasn't anything she did on purpose but that kind of aloofness had always escaped and intimidated him, which was not something he responded well to. The cold breeze caught her hair and it floated like it had a mind of its own and Deryl was stepping towards her before he quite realized it.

The Nord was standing beside Katryn and extending his free hand before she heard or saw him. She straightened instantly and her eyes locked on his, her lips parting to speak when his fingers tangled in her loose hair. She frowned briefly as he twined his fingers through the satin soft locks and stepped even closer, tightening his hold. Her frown deepened and her eyes began sparking as her hand landed on his wrist and she was on the verge of snapping at him.

Deryl was faster. He gave the hair a quick, playful tug and watched as her eyes flickered and her hand remained idly on his.

"I like this look, hero," He said quietly and heard the huskiness in his voice even as he tried to keep their previous banter up, "It makes you look more like a woman and less like a champion. Keep it up."

Katryn was truly confused now. Her brows drew together even more and she searched for the right words. The Nord looked at her a moment longer before pulling at her hair again, gently, and letting her go. She didn't have the chance to form even the smallest insult as he turned, hoisted his pack, grabbed the pan with his breakfast and began striding down their path.

Deryl was himself again that morning, keeping her on her toes as they drew closer and closer to the Urshilaku camp. He noticed with a deep and unspoken pleasure that Katryn kept her hair down, though she pinned up the sides to keep it out of her face and he wondered what had possessed him to compliment her like that. Not that he was regretting it. This look really did suit her; he liked the way the hair fell in a graceful curtain about her shoulders and the pointed tips of her ears were just visible through the myriad of brown locks. He wondered if maybe his feelings had to do with the way she had comforted him after his nightmare and then he told himself that this could be a very bad thing, even with all the rewards that a relationship with her would bring him. He, at least, was getting attached and he knew that she did like him to an extent. If she didn't there was no way she would put up with all of his quirks. She was still stubbornly mute about who it was that had caused those walls and he was aware how little he really knew about her. Add to it, no one knew what would happen after everything was over; no one knew if they would even survive and this kind of distraction, welcome though it was, wasn't smart. Not that he was going to let that stop him.

They made good time in spite of the frozen ground and the rain and snow mix that began pelting them a mile from the camp. The scout that spotted them recognized Deryl right away and reluctantly allowed Katryn to accompany him to the wise woman's yurt. If she hadn't been a Dunmer, it never would have happened and she had told Deryl the fact that she was Champion of Cyrodiil would mean very little to these people, which prevented him from boasting. The only thing they cared about was the fact that she was one of their own race and even that was hardly enough. It was an odd feeling for her. The Nord was more welcome than she was and the very idea was amusing and rather humbling. But still, she wasn't meant to be the center of attention this time around and that was more than fine with her.

Nibani Maesa stood as they were announced to her. Her age was indeterminate in spite of the snowy white hair and wrinkled face. She held herself tall, erect and her yellow eyes were those of a young woman. The intelligence in her face was intimidating and even Deryl's charms seemed wasted with this Dunmer.

Katryn fell back behind the Nord, clasping her hands before her and remaining silent. She was the stranger here and she wasn't about to force her presence unless the wise woman wanted her to. Her heavy hair was a warm weight on her neck and the loose tendrils tickled against her skin. Nibani's gaze went over her with tangible curiousity and she seemed pleased with Katryn's show of respect.

"I had seen that Deryl Lofolk was accompanied," The wise woman said and her voice was even more ancient than Gilvas', "What is your name, child?"

"Katryn Gwynyth, my lady," Katryn made a formal bow, one hand closed in a fist over her heart and resisting the urge to toss her hair back over her shoulders when it fell forward.

"Yes, the Imperial City is much troubled these days by threats to the royal family. I had wondered how entwined our destinies were to become and now you are here with the proclaimed Nerevarine," Nibani's eyes were back on Deryl and she studied him for a long moment before continuing, "The ancestors have shown me in my dreams as the stars have spoken clearly if we had but listened, that you are the Nerevarine, Deryl Lofolk. You have discovered those Lost Prophecies, yes? Then let me study them."

Katryn was already pulling Gilvas' copied work from her bag and stepping forward to place them in Nibani's outstretched hands. The wise woman read the two verses that had been uncovered by the old Dunmer in Holamayn and then allowed her eyes to close, her lips forming the words like she was singing a beloved song. When she looked at them again, her face was at peace.

"I will be your instructor from now on, Deryl," She told him and then cast a glance at Katryn again. The younger Elf was well aware her expression was becoming stubborn and she didn't think she cared much, "Katryn has been given a task she does not feel she has completed and so will remain as well."

"We've come for the next task," Deryl answered and didn't bother to hide his pleasure at Katryn's obvious distaste with the implication that she leave him, "According to Gilvas Barelo, I have passed the first two trials. What do I have to do to pass the third?"

Nibani was studying the verses again and her yellow eyes flashed up to them briefly. Katryn was sure the irritation in the older Dunmer's gaze went beyond Deryl who was merely eager to hear his next step towards glory and immortality.

"I cannot tell you that," The wise woman answered and then turned to set the copies of the verses down on her squat table with something close to reverence, "You will have to take an audience with Ashkhan Sul-Matuul. He is present today and in his hut. Tell the warrior sitting outside that I have made the request for the Ashkhan's counsel and he will permit you entry. If he does not I will speak with the Ashkhan himself. He is planning a hunt soon and this will be one of your only opportunities."

Katryn and Deryl both thanked her and left the yurt, crossing the makeshift courtyard where guars roamed placidly and the tribe members looked at them curiously.

"Worried I might take all of the credit for myself?" Deryl questioned her in an undertone as he let her lead the way to what was obviously the Ashkhan's yurt.

She gave a quiet snort and felt her lips curl up slightly as she watched an Elf toddler run giggling from his teasing mother. The woman's startling red eyes reminded her of her own mother and she felt a pang of homesickness that stabbed her more strongly than she ever thought it would. She hated coming to Morrowind and avoiding her family, nevermind she was doing so to keep them safe.

"I'm worried that you will trip and fall down a canyon because you were too busy watching a pretty girl to pay attention to where you were walking. If you die, my homeland will be lost to this blight and then where will we be?" She answered calmly, turning her attention away from the young mother and trying to keep the sadness from her voice.

Deryl liked that. He grinned and glanced down at her with amusement. The sight of her loose hair once again gave him a little thrill of pleasure as he answered,

"The only pretty girl that would distract me is already here and she'd catch me before I fall anyway."

That eye rolling was becoming second nature and she was glad her cheeks didn't flush.

"Or give you a quick end," She muttered and then dipped a bow to the warrior standing at attention outside the Ashkhan's yurt, "Wise woman Maesa has sent us to counsel with the Ashkhan, my lord. May we proceed?"

"Names?" The warrior replied, eyeing them with interest.

Deryl and Katryn answered respectively and the warrior ducked in only to return moments later, waving one hand to the the dim entrance. Sul-Matuul was seated on a dark red cushion before a small table that looked to be the sister of Nibani's. He finished with what he was writing and then got to his feet. They bowed to him as he inclined his head and studied them. He was maybe 15 or 20 years older than Katryn and his red eyes were intelligent and shrewd.

"We were told that you could point us in the direction of the third task that I must complete," Deryl said, getting right to the point after they officially introduced themselves and explained why they were present.

"Of course," Sul-Matuul replied easily, his eyes flickering with polite disbelief. It was obvious he was withholding his judgment about Deryl's claim until he had substantial proof, "Nibani and I discussed this at length and while she is convinced of your heritage, I must withhold my judgement until you prove yourself. You surely can understand. I lead these people here and they trust me to make the right decisions. So I require a certain... clarification before I make my final announcement."

"Understood, my lord," Katryn's voice was polite, smooth and understandably cool, "What is it you require?"

"There are three items actually," Sul-Matuul responded and his tone matched hers, "A House Dagoth cup, the Shadow Shield that once belonged to a Dwemer warrior and corprus weepings. I understand that you have passed the Curse of Flesh, so that should not be a worry for you."

Deryl didn't like the implications in the man's tone and he arched his brows, ignoring the warning sound Katryn made and allowing his tongue to get the better of him.

"Something else you must see firsthand?" He said, trying to adopt Katryn's biting sarcasm.

"Where will we find these things?" Katryn cut in and laid one hand against Deryl's forearm to keep him from saying anything else.

Sul-Matuul's red eyes were flashing and it took a moment before he looked away from the Nord and fixed his attention on Katryn. He tipped his mouth a little and seemed to respect her honest straightforward approach to him.

"Kogoruhn, which is a ruin a little southeast of us. It shouldn't take you more than two hours to reach, though it is extensive," He answered and was going to go on but Katryn was already nodding.

"Yes, it is," She agreed and looked up at Deryl, "It is another old safe house but in the last 100 years it's been overrun by Dagoth worshipers; necromancers; cultists; take your pick. We should get moving since we will still have daylight for some time. Thank you, my lord, we shall return."

And it was said with such certainty that even Sul-Matuul had to believe her.

* * *

"Even if we do hire assassins, what guarantees Septim will still believe the Nerevarine is involved?" Yvex was asking, the voice of reason this time in spite of the fact that Heidl's calm assurance had been the most prominent feeling in the room, "He is no fool. If his lover is killed along with this Nord, will he still wage war on Morrowind for the kidnapping of his daughter? No one will be left to blame."

"Exactly," Nema agreed and leaned forward to pour another cup of coffee, "He will order further investigation into all of these happenings before taking such a drastic leap. Or are you really hoping that he will be so distraught that he won't be thinking straight?"

Heidl let their thoughts wash over him and considered that for a long moment. They had talked all night and even now with the grey dawn creeping into Nema's small living room, they were really no closer than when they started. Nema and the Dremora had taken everything in stride, surprisingly, and Nema was especially thrilled with the idea that Septim and his Champion had been lovers. What was more, the rumor that Gwynyth had given up on Septim when he decided to marry Folga's daughter was even more damaging in her eyes. Perhaps it was because she had been betrayed and hurt like that in the past and she understood what the two of them were going through. Though Heidl doubted it. Nema was not one that easily empathized with others and he knew that she was merely enjoying this weakness that they had discovered in their seeming unassailable enemy.

"No, I don't," The Bosmer finally answered and held up one hand to stop them from exploding at him, "Which means that we will simply have to bide our time and watch Lofolk even more closely."

"And just wait while he finishes the tasks and our chances are completely blown?" Nema's voice was biting and venomous.

"If that is your wish," Heidl was clearly nonplussed, "Or you could listen to my plan and I will leave you to make your own decision. I have no need to tell you that I'm well connected here in Morrowind. Lofolk is making good process and all is becoming more and more clear that he is indeed the Nerevarine. This is not good news, I know that, but as soon as he has won the support of the Ashlanders and the Houses which I have no doubt he'll do, we can act. I will make the request."

"Request?" Nema repeated when Heidl seemed to lose his train of thought, his hazel eyes looking beyond her, "You were being serious about the assisination, then? You just want to wait until there is more on the line?"

Heidl was brought back to reality and his lips curled in a frightening smile. The hazel eyes were lit up a manic excitement that was just below the surface and Nema felt like icy fingertips were trailing down her spine. The little Bosmer was turning out to be an incredibly dangerous man.

"Precisely," He answered, "Once Lofolk has the support of the tribes and Houses, we can dispatch those assisinations and make their murders look like a terribly tragedy for the Champion. It is possible to make it appear as though Lofolk attacked her and both of them killed in the struggle. We can still take care of the girl then and it won't be hard to leave a trail to the Nord. Once Septim is convinced and demands action from Morrowind... everything will be settled."

Nema was running her fingers along the rim of her mug and thinking about this new plan. The others from the meeting on that first night didn't matter anymore and as far as Nema was concerned, they were merely collateral now. Heidl didn't bother to hide that he used people as long as it was convenient and then didn't care what happened in the end.

"And what do we do with the girl until then?" It was Yvex again and Nema glanced at him in surprise, not considering that. It didn't really concern them: the princess was still miles away and Heidl was the one that would have to hide her somewhere but it was a valid point, "Keeping a member of royalty, even secretly, is like having a target painted on our backs."

"I will deal with her," Heidl replied with an impatient wave of his hand. He was getting to his feet, "Don't make a decision now. Sleep on it and I will be back tonight."

Yvex was looking at Nema before the door even closed completely behind the Bosmer. His black eyes were unreadable and he moved across the room to sit before her, trying to cipher her expression.

"What do you think?" He questioned and clearly startled her with the sound of his voice.

Her pale eyes went up to meet his and she searched his face for a moment before looking back down at the mug in her hands. She shrugged her shoulders a little and went back to her thoughts.

"He has a point," The Altmer finally conceded and then grimaced, "Of course, he did the first night, too. I don't know, Yvex, by all accounts the tribe will fall in behind this Nord and this will be my chance to fight back. You can't take that away from me."

The Dremora moved to sit on the table in front of her. He reached out and plucked the coffee from her hands before taking them in his own. She returned the grasp but still didn't look at him. Yvex tipped her chin and then let his fingers wander over the scars spanning her face.

"I will not," He answered softly, "I've promised you already, haven't I?"

Nema was leaning forward, her breath becoming hitched as her Dremora's hands became bolder. It was clear by the look on his face and the heat his grasp radiated that he was keen on picking up where they were forced to leave off because of Heidl and she wasn't about to stop him. This was the one thing that Nema had always given him complete control over and it was the easiest and best thing she'd ever done. Though this wasn't the best time, really. They would have to come to a decision about Heidl's offer, nevermind how clear Nema's response had been. The only thing she wanted was to make her tribe suffer and the Bosmer was promising her that. Yvex's fingers and mouth were quickly distracting her.

"Yes," She breathed finally as her head tilted back and she was arching into him with a ragged gasp. His hot mouth was tracing a sensuous path down her neck and rational thinking was becoming an impossibility. Yvex was pushing her steadily back onto the couch cushions and his body was a familiar, heavy weight. She made one more attempt at a coherent sentence before twining her arms around him and giving in to their passions, "And this is the reason I will never forget it."


	17. Chapter 17

"Tell me about your nightmare," Katryn said suddenly. They were almost to Kogoruhn and she didn't think she'd get a better chance than this to confront him.

Deryl glanced sidelong at her. She had finally piled her hair up into a messy bun and tendrils were escaping to frame her face. Both of them had taken the time at the Urshilaku camp to pull on armor since there was no guessing what they would run into at Kogoruhn and the tooled leather fit her like a second skin. When he asked, she told him simply it was another one of those Champion things with that same venom in her voice she knew he would never understand but for some reason found amusing. Her cheeks were tinted pale blue with the cold and exertion. They had been traveling through steep foothills and the exercise worked in her favor which the Nord couldn't help but notice.

"It'll cost you, hero," He answered as their path leveled out and the tops of Kogoruhn's roofs became visible in the distance.

Expecting an eye roll or at the very least a heavy sigh, he was surprised when she replied simply though not without some hesitation,

"I know and am prepared for that, but..." The Elf trapped him with a severe look and added almost dangerously, "I will not give you his name or what he does, I'm not ready for that. Do we have a deal?"

Deryl wanted to argue with or tease her but something in her flame colored eyes stopped him. The pain she had hidden from him so well was suddenly foremost in her face and he realized how very personal this wound was to her. He was nodding before he even knew it.

"Fair enough," He said, foregoing the snide comment that had been on the tip of his tongue and keeping up his pace as he described the nightmare to her.

Even in broad daylight, nevermind how grey the snow leaden clouds made it, the fear of the gold masked man was as real as ever. He didn't look at the Elf as they walked, not wanting her to see how effected by it he still was.

"This wasn't the first one, was it?" Katryn was asking quietly, curiously and Deryl was glad she brought that up. He hadn't been sure how to.

"No, it wasn't the first. The second, actually; the first wasn't a nightmare and the gold mask was merely an... element," Deryl shrugged his broad shoulders and his eyes began taking in Kogoruhn as they crested yet another hill and it spread before them, "I don't know why I was so terrified this time."

This ruin was nothing like Holamayn. There was no rock face that hid it from prying eyes, the buildings simply leapt from the ground and towered over them menacingly. It was clear that Kogoruhn had not been used frequently for years but it had lost none of its intimidating air. The steps, worn and cracked now, stretched up in front of them and the dome shaped roofs reminded Deryl of crabs that were native to Skyrim.

"Safe house, huh?" He questioned as they started up the broken and crumbling steps.

Katryn allowed a small smile as she shrugged her shoulders and noticed his deflection from talk about the nightmares. Anxiety went through her and she wished that he would just ask his question and get it over with. She had thought originally it would be worth the exchange and now she was hating herself for making that decision. Martin and all the feelings they had for one another, those memories of him that were so precious to her, how thoughts of him still made her heart race and her insides melt... all of that _had_ to remain a taboo between herself and Deryl. The Nord wouldn't understand, for all his flashes of thoughtful empathy, and Katryn just knew that the whole thing could be used against her so easily.

"It was started as a stronghold and just kind of morphed," She explained when she felt him looking at her curiously. Ignoring his scrutiny, she shifted her belt to make sure her sword was within reach.

Deryl could practically taste her trepidation and he let her stew in it a little longer. He had never intended to make deals but he was bright enough to realize this would be the only way to get anything meaningful from her. That expression of her pain was still vivid in his head and for whatever reason, his little whispering voice drowned out the shouting for the first time in years, asking the least painful question he could think of.

"How long were you involved?"

The Elf drew in a breath as she stopped to string her bow. Letting it out slowly, she answered without looking at him though the restringing was something she could do blindfolded and behind her back.

"A little over 3½ months."

Deryl felt his eyebrows shoot up and he watched her graceful hands tighten the bowstring expertly. She was removing her condensed pack and after a quick look up at the grey sky, she went to the knee high wall surrounding this upper courtyard. There was a section of stone that had partially collapsed and formed a little cove of sorts where the bag could be stowed out of the weather. She crouched and shoved her pack into it and then turned without standing, reaching up for his.

"Are you going to keep that or do you want it here as well?" She asked and her flaming eyes, carefully guarded, met his.

"Just 3 months?" He repeated as he removed the bag and tugged loose the mace that was tied to the outside. The Nord slung the weapon over his shoulder with the leather strap that had been attached as an afterthought. Between that and his longsword, he was obviously ready to go.

"Yes, just 3 months," Her accent seemed to gain some potency as she got a little more emotional. She held up a few torches to him and then stuffed some herbs into the little pouches at her belt, "I think this will be enough. If something goes seriously wrong, we can come back out to the bags and I have plenty of ingredients to make potions. Are you ready?"

She was on her feet and moving away from him to the door that was facing them in the first of the three buildings. Deryl was watching her face closely and saw how she had set her jaw and was carefully avoiding his gaze. He took the torches in one hand and reached out with the other to grab her elbow.

"And you were in love with him that quickly?" He demanded when her eyes snapped to his and lit brilliantly.

"You have asked your question," She countered and tugged at his hold. Deryl's fingers merely tightened, biting into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises, "And I answered. Can we move on?"

Again the pain was flashing across her face and instead of a fleeting glimpse, the Nord got the full extent of it and he winced slightly, loosening his grasp so he wasn't holding her captive anymore. His initial response was to make her smile or laugh again and he immediately set about to make it happen.

"You're turning out to be like every other woman I've been involved with, Kat," He said lightly and watched as her eyes banked a little and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. _Damn, but you're beautiful!_ He thought and knew he would have to be willing to die to tell her that now, "Falling in love with a new man every few months. And to think I was really beginning to respect you."

She chuckled and hardly realized in his sudden thoughtful attempts to distract her that she was free to move away from him. Instead she stepped a little closer to nudge him with her elbow and called over her shoulder as she continued to the door,

"Misogynist."

"I think it's pretty obvious I don't hate women," Deryl was saying as he fell into step next to her.

Katryn was surprised he knew that one but didn't comment on it. Her mind was slipping back into her strategist mode and she was looking closely at the heavy reinforced door, trying to detect any glimmer of magic.

"You make that very obvious," She said absentmindedly, "Do not worry about that, Lofolk."

The Elf was stepping forward to lay her hands on the wood and metal door when Deryl's fingers came to rest lightly on her forearm, just above the leather gauntlet. Her burning eyes flashed up to his and she was struck by the softness she saw in his expression.

"Listen, Kat," He began hesitantly, "I'm sorry that you were hurt all those years ago."

She studied him for a moment, wondering what he really wanted from her. His face was serious for once, though she didn't think he could keep his eyes from dancing which was beginning to grow on her. When he wasn't trying his damnedest to get her in bed with him and they actually succeeded in having real conversations, she almost liked him. Until he blew it completely with something crass and that was always inevitable.

"You weren't there, Deryl," She answered finally as he began looking at her curiously, "There is no need for you to apologize."

"I know," He said and his fingers were trailing a path up her arm and over the supple leather pauldron on her shoulder to tug at her hair with his crooked grin, "I'm just softening you up even more so my final move will be all the more effective."

Katryn resisted the urge to roll her eyes and reached up to knock his hand away from her as though she was swatting at an irksome fly. Stepping past him, she continued to the door and pressed her small palms flat on the wood.

"Keep trying, Lofolk, and you will loose those fingers," She replied with velvety poison that he actually found himself heeding.

He watched with interest as she concentrated and there was a rapid flash of light across the door under her hands before it faded completely. Katryn reached forward and tugged experimentally at the handle which did nothing. She let out a breath and glanced back at him as he reached out and moved her out of the way. His hands lingered longer than they needed on her waist and then he focused on the door, pulling out long delicate lock-picking tools and going to work. Katryn watched, not in the least bit surprised and saw with some satisfaction that he was disappointed in his failure to get a response.

"Maybe you're right," He said as there was a little click that signified success. Stowing the tools away carefully, he straightened and looked at her, "Without my fingers, I wouldn't have been able to do that."

"And that would be devastating to your future, I'm sure," She answered dryly and pulled the door open as snow began to drift down and the wind kicked up even more.

They stepped inside the first building and Katryn left the door open just slightly before reaching out and tugging one of the torches from Deryl's back. Once it was ignited, she handed it to him and loosed her sword in its sheath. The tunnel yawned before them, heading down with broad steps. Sconces on the walls that once held torches were now clogged with spiders' webs and the air was dry and stagnant. There was no dampness here in this building and Katryn was reminded sharply of the Gutted Mine. Deryl's voice cut through the thick silence and he was speaking rather sternly.

"Katryn, that Dunmer said corprus weepings and I don't want you trying to gather them yourself," His eyes were dark in the dim light and he set his chin so stubbornly, the Elf would have been tempted to laugh at him if she wasn't annoyed, "I mean it, you shouldn't even be fighting those monsters. There's too much risk of infection. This isn't me trying to be macho or sexist, this is me keeping you safe because corprus is hell."

Katryn studied him for a moment longer, wondering what it was about men like him that tempted her so greatly to tease and mock them. Baurus was the same as well as Levin. They had always been her 'mother hens' nevermind the fact _she_ was the woman.

"Very well, I promise I'll back down if a rotting corpse launches itself at me," She told him and to her credit, she really did try to keep her voice solemn.

Deryl waited for a few heartbeats longer, not liking the humor in her voice. She really had no idea what corprus did to the body. Huge red welts that sprouted everywhere and burned like fire before they turned black and began rotting from the inside out... No, he wasn't going to let that happen to her.

"I'll hold you to that promise, hero," The Nord was stepping down the tunnel and the light danced along the dirt and cobweb covered walls, "You won't go back on your word, you're too good for that."

Katryn couldn't help but grin up at him as she fell into step beside him and didn't reply. They remained in the companionable silence and the Elf preferred this. She had tried her detection charm several times and it was coming up empty, but her ears were picking up on all sorts of sounds and she wouldn't have been able to distinguish which was which if they had been talking. The further they trekked down the tunnel that never wavered from the straight shot and the darker and mustier it got, the more Katryn had to focus very hard on not letting her claustrophobia get the better of her and a couple of times she almost asked Deryl to talk to her. And then she would hear something that sounded like a footstep and her instincts would kick in and make her forget her fears.

Deryl was uneasy. He didn't like the fact they had now gone about a mile and had seen nothing. Katryn's silent concentration was not encouraging and he kept glancing sidelong at her as if waiting for her to say something, anything. She would periodically cock her head and stare hard down the tunnel before seeming to be content with whatever it was he couldn't hear or see. After watching her do this about a half dozen times, he had to find out what it meant. Opening up his mouth to ask, he was stopped short when she went completely still and then in a blink of the eye, had pulled her bow from her back and fired an arrow that went too fast for him to follow. A second later there was a soft 'oomph' and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the earth. Instantly, his mace was in his free hand and he was standing at attention right beside her, trying to make out the shapes she had seen with such ease. Glancing at her briefly, he heeded her fractional head shake and waited while she concentrated again before stepping forward and waving him to follow. About 100 yards down the tunnel they came up on a grey skinned creature sprawled on its face. The Nord turned it over with one foot and crouched, holding the torch a little bit closer to it. The flickering light was bouncing off a grey skinned face that was narrow with slanted eyes and a nose that appeared to have caved in. Sharp teeth gleamed menacingly and the creature's arms were inordinately long for its body. Katryn exhaled slightly in surprise and was crouching beside Deryl.

"An ash vampire," She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't think there were any still left."

"You probably just killed the last one," The Nord answered with adrenaline fueled amusement and his eyes were dark green in the torchlight.

She snorted softly and reached out to touch the vampire's grey skin as it began to fade away in a fine ash. Deryl's little intake of surprise was ignored and Katryn picked up her arrow, snapping the useless point from the shaft and then tucking it away to be reused later. She nodded towards the tunnel as she stood again.

"Let's move on," The comment was still just a whisper and the Nord's proximity would have been unnerving if his expression wasn't apprehensive, "I can make out a door just ahead and there's something waiting for us on the other side."

Deryl frowned down at her and saw that she was completely focused on what was to come. One of her hands was pulling at a loose strand of hair that was tickling her neck and her face was a study of concentration.

"How do you know that?" He asked before he could help himself.

The corner of her mouth tipped up and she gave a small shrug of her shoulders as she started walking down the path again. Her soft voice was even more like music in this depressing tunnel.

"Magic."

"I was being serious."

"So was I," She was speaking even more quietly as the Nord's torchlight fell on the wood of another door, "It's called a detection spell. The range is about a mile and though it doesn't tell me how many are ahead, it is better than no warning at all."

The Elf's hands were moving over the wood the whole time she was speaking and there was another pale flash of light as she dispelled the magic in the door. One hand slid her sword free as the fingers of the other closed around the hoop handle. She sent him a look that said 'be ready' and pulled the door open. The Nord added his strength and together they shoved the door against the wall. Deryl's torch was dropped to the floor as there was a hiss of angry breath and the light bounced off blackened, oozing flesh and an eyeless face. With a sharp curse, the Nord shoved Katryn back behind him and charged the corprus beast that was too close for comfort. In his drive to get rid of the monster before it got to the Elf, he didn't see the other enemies in the room.

Lucky for him, Katryn did. She fired an arrow at the ash stalker that swung for Deryl and dropped the creature in the blink of an eye. The shadows were deep in this cavern and the flickering torch didn't help but the Elf's eyes were already adjusted and she was quick to see she had caught the attention of the other ash monsters. Keeping Deryl in her peripheral vision and noting with satisfaction that he was winning his fight, she focused again. Another ash vampire went down with one of her blue fletched arrows sticking from its eye and she met the second with a harsh upward swing of her sword. It was an ash slave this time and though its skin and face were much the same as the vampires', they were considerably harder to kill. The monster stumbled back with a growl of anger and was lurching forward at her again. It had no weapon but was far from defenseless. Her sword slid on its sinewy arms as the fingers groped for her neck and Katryn ducked, whirling around behind it and swinging for its neck. The blade caught and tore at the tough flesh and the monster was dropped, its head practically severed.

She turned around again rapidly when Deryl let out a grunt of pain and there was a small explosion in the side of her head. Stars exploded behind her suddenly closed eyelids and she stumbled back, almost going to her knees. There was a dry hiss from somewhere to her left and she shook her head, trying to keep it together as she felt long fingers dig in to her arms. Fetid breath was in her face and her body was shoved back against the wall. The stars were fading to black holes in her eyesight and she let out a shaky breath and leaned even further into the wall, her mind wanting to give in to that deep black. Somewhere, someone was calling her name hoarsely and she was brought back to herself when sharp teeth scraped across her throat. She threw her weight back and kicked upwards, connecting with the ash vampire's lanky knees. The creature was distracted from her neck and she kept at it, trying to shove the black spots to the back of her head and advancing on the monster. Her sword felt too heavy as she lifted it and swung at the vampire. It stumbled back and a moment later, the point of Deryl's longsword was jutting through its chest.

Katryn let out a sigh, tilting back to lean on the wall again and feel the screaming protest in her bad shoulder. Her head was killing her and she pressed her fingers to her temple, wincing when she felt the beginnings of a large goose egg. She didn't realize that she had slid down the wall and was perched on her heels until Deryl was crouching beside her and tipping her face up so he could look at her neck.

"Are you all right?" She asked and heard how thick her accent was as her voice reacted to the pain in her body.

Deryl glanced at her quickly before going back to his inspection of her wounds. Which became impossible as the torch they dropped finally guttered out. With another sigh, the Elf leaned forward, tugging a second from Deryl's back and igniting it. Her eyes locked on his and she could see he was still reacting to the adrenaline pumping through him.

"I should be asking you that," He answered and his fingers brushed against the small scratches on her throat caused by the vampire's teeth. The pulse there was sure and strong and of course the Nord's first response was to think how that might feel under his lips...

Her hand caught his and her flaming eyes were glittering. The expression on her face was unreadable but the look in her gaze was rather dangerous.

"Fingers, Lofolk, fingers," She reminded.


	18. Chapter 18

The Elf firmly put Deryl's hand back at his side and gingerly got to her feet, casting her healing charm. The pale blue haze surrounded her and strength was returning to her limbs. Her head was still aching but she was no longer seeing stars. One hand felt the scratches on her throat and she immediately shoved a hand into the pouches at her belt and pulled out a small vial. Over the years, both she and Matti had discovered vampirism could be cured thoroughly with just a few ounces of the right potion. She swallowed the contents, grimacing as she did so and then met his eyes.

"I will be fine," She told him, "It's nothing I haven't already gone through."

"Well, we're down to gathering just the two items," Deryl replied as he positioned himself between her and the sprawled corprus monster. The Elf was once more leading the way, in all likelihood not knowing where she was going but he didn't mind. Especially not now, when he knew just how well equipped she was for this kind of thing, "I grabbed the corprus weepings, so no worrying about that one."

She nodded, feeling the dizziness slowly fading. Her body was sore and she wished now that she would have kept up the sword fighting over the years, even just practice, as Gozrak had done. Muscles not used to this kind of heavy exertion were calling their protests and she knew she would crash when they finally stopped long enough to rest.

"Good, but that just means that we have to keep going," She answered and there was strength returning to her voice, "That monster didn't-"

"I could strip if you like."

And Katryn Gwynyth was back, rolling her eyes and fending him off with sarcasm and poison.

"We should not humiliate you anymore than has already been done."

"Afraid you might like it too much?" Deryl questioned and remembered to temper his voice to just above a whisper.

The flickering of the torch was casting her face in shadow and light and it bounced off her nose and cheeks in a way that made her even more irresistible. Her burning eyes were smouldering and Deryl could see he had succeeded in flustering her, which pleased him too much. _Not good, Lofolk, not good._ The little whispering voice admonished and he was becoming damn good at ignoring it.

"Yes, that's my problem," Katryn's voice was saturated with mockery, "I think it would be a wonderful idea to give in to our passions in a cave that's filled with monsters and just get it out of our systems."

Deryl stopped walking and faced her, stepping a little too close for comfort. He knew that she was teasing him but this was the only effective method for getting back at her.

"Right," He agreed and he was pleased with the way his voice was smooth and husky and there were all sorts of unspoken desires there, "Let's get to it then."

Katryn's eyes slid away from his and she dropped their banter like it hadn't even happened. She held up one hand for silence and cocked her head. Casting her spell again, she found that there were more hits not far from them. Her face was suddenly very serious and she shook her head slightly, loosening her blade and repositioning her bow so it was within easy reach. She continued down the path and Deryl fell in beside her. The light was bouncing off the stone beneath their feet and they had lost the cobweb covered walls of the previous tunnel. This cavern was smaller than Katryn originally thought and though her claustrophobia had dispelled as soon as the ceiling soared above her, these new pinpricks of unease were not comforting. She should have picked up on this new enemy much sooner and she wondered if the old magic here was putting a damper on her own. They came up on the next door before either of them quite realized it and Deryl stepped forward to open this one. He'd follow Katryn anywhere at this point and not just because he thought her exceptionally pretty. She was clearly the Champion of Cyrodiil and he was regretting his doubts. This little Elf was incredibly dangerous and she more than held her own but he was at heart a chauvinist and this door was his responsibility.

As soon as it was opened, both of them were blinking in the sudden, rather harsh light. This was another expansive cavern and the light was coming from fires flickering in small pocket hearths set in the walls. The ceiling was a little bit lower here and the walls still bore evidence of the tools used to carve it out. Katryn could hear footsteps over the sound of the flames and Deryl's nose picked up the stench that belonged singularly to corprus beasts. He gave a small wave of one hand, telling her wordlessly to stay behind him and was rather surprised she heeded him. They entered the room slowly and Katryn eased the bow from her shoulder, getting ready for the next battle. She reached out suddenly and grabbed Deryl's elbow, forcing him to stop as they came up on a corner and she could hear something approaching. The Nord had dropped his torch at the door and now took the mace in both hands. Katryn eased to the other side of the tunnel and knocked an arrow. When the shuffling, blade thin corprus monster turned the corner, it didn't stand a chance. Katryn's arrow found the depression that once held an eye and Deryl's mace connected with the side of its head. They didn't stop long enough to make sure it was dead. There were more sounds further down the hall and the Nord and Elf moved as though they were performing a dance. Deryl was lethal in his movements and he depended on Katryn to hear what he couldn't while she stuck to her promise, standing in the background and proving her archery skills as they fought these decomposing corpses. Katryn hadn't ever seen anything like it and her curiousity took hold of her several times. She wanted to examine the beasts to see exactly what the disease attacked but Deryl kept her moving, seeming able to read her thoughts.

They reached a deserted hallway and ahead they saw a doorway leading to the left. Deryl glanced at Katryn who nodded her head.

"It's safe," She told him speaking for the first time in about half an hour, "The closest one is another half mile at the most."

Deryl grunted softly in surprise as he lead the way down the hall. It felt as though they had been in this cave for days instead of hours and he wondered, not for the first time, if Sul-Matuul's intention was for them to get lost so he wouldn't have to make his decision.

"Did you have any idea it would be so expansive?" He asked as he pointed out another corpse and made sure she steered clear of it.

"No," She answered and couldn't stop the little smile at his careful watching out for her. She knew the only way she'd catch the disease was if she made direct contact with it and he was being more than protective enough to prevent that, "I didn't think there would be this much of the disease here either."

They came in line with the doorway and saw that it was just a small room that was stacked with chests and piles of rubbish. Deryl glanced at her with arched brows.

"Anything in your morals that goes against looting?"

"Would you listen to me if there were?" She challenged and succeeded in making him grin.

He was already stepping forward and then crouching beside the first chest. His mace was dropped by his knees and he was pulling out his lock-picking tools.

"Obviously not," He answered and a moment later was propping open the lid of the chest. The hinges creaked in protest and the smell of musty wood permeated the air.

The Elf stepped next to him and was peering into the chest. There were several pairs of ancient robes, a few pitted and dulled knives, a pouch of gold coins that were probably older than Katryn's parents, which Deryl pocketed, a Dwemer axe that had script as fine as spider webs spiraling through the silvery gleam of the metal, and at the very bottom a medium sized, round shield. Deryl handed this to Katryn as he moved to the other chests. The Elf crouched, placing the shield on the ground in front of her and took one of the robes to clean the dust and grime from it. On closer inspection, it was more oval shaped and the lower portion was halved. The two sections were thick and durable and it was much heavier than Katryn originally thought it would be. It was clearly another Dwemer artifact and made from a mix of metals, the 'recipe' for it long since forgotten. She bent even closer and saw there were fine markings in the metal. There wasn't enough light to see clearly what it was, but one thing she knew for certain was that it wasn't just script like the axe; there had once been an engraving of a creature there. She sat back on her heels and exhaled a little. Another item retrieved. This was, without doubt, one of the Shadow Shields of old.

"No cup," Deryl observed as he kicked at a pile of trash.

"But we have the shield now," She answered and took up the robe she'd used to clean it. As soon as the shield was wrapped securely, Deryl plucked it from her hands and removed the leather strap that made his mace so easy to lug around. The Elf watched as he slung the shield onto his back, "Whatever is down there is moving."

The Nord's eyes were suddenly lit with the aspect of another fight, or maybe with the thought that he would get to watch her fight again. Something that he wouldn't want to pass up. Her graceful, deadly movements were alluring and he had always enjoyed strong women.

"Then let's move."

They went down the hallway together and rounded a corner only to be met with another reinforced door that looked as though it hadn't been opened for years. Deryl cursed underneath his breath and glanced sidelong at Katryn. The Elf was eyeing this new obstacle and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

"What now?" He asked, "Do you have any tricks for getting this one opened?"

"I just might," She answered and stepped closer to the door. Once more, she went through her methods of dispelling the magic and then turned to face the tunnel they had just come down. There was a broken jug lying on the floor amidst a pile of rubbish and she took it up before turning to the reinforced door again. Kneeling beside it, she began pulling herbs from her belt and crushing them into the broken jug, "This will be loud and rather destructive, but it's effective."

"What is it?" He asked and settled on his heels next to her.

"These herbs, when mixed like this and then given a little... encouragement will produce a small explosion, of sorts," She explained as she stirred the mixture together and smashed it even more, "I told you that there was-"

The Elf stopped speaking abruptly and her hands went still. Cocking her head, she listened to what was going on on the other side of the door and then dropped the jug and her mixing tool. She lunged at Deryl and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Get down!"

The world suddenly pitched and rocked violently as the door exploded into dangerous projectiles. Rocks and wood fired down at them, pelting them hard enough to leave bruises and draw blood. Katryn's ears were ringing insistently and she could just barely hear the fierce intake of breath from the room that was suddenly open to them. She rolled quickly, trying to shake her disorientation. The explosion had sent her flying from the Nord and she blinked in the settling dust and rubble, making out a towering shape that was advancing on them. Deryl was still on his hands and knees and clearly didn't see what was coming up on him. Katryn didn't stop to think about what she was doing as she sent her shield charm rocketing up between them and this new monster. It flailed against this invisible barrier and Katryn almost lost it. She concentrated even more and drew her sword, staggering to her feet and shouting Deryl's name. The Nord was quicker to get up and he whirled about, gathering his wits.

The Elf was finally able to make out what was approaching and her strength went out from her when the Dagoth monster dealt a second attack to her shield. Caught off guard, it stumbled forward into the light and was dropped a moment later under Deryl's fierce swing. The Nord smashed the Dagoth's head in with another swift blow and then turned to look at Katryn. She was paler than he'd ever seen her and visibly shaken by what had happened. Her flaming eyes were on the creature crumpled at Deryl's feet and she let out a quick breath as realization of how close to death they'd just come set in. She felt his scrutiny and glanced at him quickly before squaring her shoulders and trying to push away the pain and exhaustion that was creeping in more and more steadily.

"Well, that's that," She observed and was stumbling forward over the rubble to go through the door.

"Hey," Deryl said softly as she went by him and started down the new tunnel.

The Elf kept walking and he saw how her shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice. Anger coursed through him and he marched after her. He wasn't a fool and he could see clearly that this had shaken her more than she wanted to let on. Weariness was creasing her face and she was in pain. It wasn't that detrimental they keep moving, not with her detection charm that had already saved their lives several times.

"Hey!" He repeated, this time with more fire in his voice. He had almost reached her and still, she ignored him. Cursing roundly, Deryl reached out and grabbed her elbow, jerking her around to face him. Not caring that her eyes were flashing with anger as well, he took her other arm and held her in front of him, "Are you okay?"

Katryn let out another huff of breath and tried to still her rage. She wasn't angry at him, at least not yet. She was furious with herself. That should never have happened. She should have realized how close that Dagoth creature was and the thought of just how easily both of them could have been killed because she wanted to show off a little left her breathless. But they hadn't been and Deryl was grasping her firmly with a look of such concern on his face that she felt her heart go out to him. He wasn't Gozrak or Baurus or... Martin; she forced herself to think that last one, despite the pain and desire that went through her. He wasn't going to understand just how much, or even why, she beat herself up over things like this and she couldn't expect him to. Forcing herself to exhale a steadying breath, she smiled a little at him and nodded her head, pulling at his hold.

"Yes, Deryl, I'm fine," She answered quietly, "It just shook me. I should have been paying more attention."

"That's not what I meant," His grip tightened and he wished he was able to read what she was thinking, "You look beat, Kat, and whatever you did to protect us from that... thing took a lot out of you. We can sit and-"

"No, we have come this far and we need to finish this. Don't worry about me, Lofolk, I can rest later."

The Elf wriggled free and started walking again. They were in yet another lighted cavern and Katryn's charm turned up nothing. The hall wound back and forth for about a quarter mile, seeming to double back at least four or five times and at the end there was another round chamber that clearly had belonged to the Dagoth creature lying amidst the rubble behind them. Deryl immediately set about going through the other chests as Katryn examined a battered and decaying desk. There were old papers in the drawers that had belonged to the cultists that once habited this place and she was deep in the daily log when Deryl called to her.

"Hero, I think we're free to go."

She turned to look at him and saw that he was grasping an ancient golden chalice in his hands and grinning as though it was the best birthday present he had ever received.

* * *

"I don't believe you," Mia said quietly to Mart as he helped to ease her down on a bedroll. Another day and they would be in Morrowind. The princess had overheard the two of them talking about the boat they would take to Vvardenfell but from there where they were going was a mystery to her. Setting her chin stubbornly after the gasp of pain erupted from her lips, she glowered at the Bosmer, "The Nerevarine would have to be a fool to-"

"We were not in any position to ask questions, princess," Mart answered with the same cool tone he always used. He spared a withering glance back at Remar, who ignored him, and then handed the girl another potion, "So I can't tell you how much of a fool Lofolk is or isn't."

Mia took the potion and held it between her palms, her green eyes on Mart's hazel, searching desperately for any sign that he was softening again, that maybe he would tell her even more. She shifted her weight and almost bit through her tongue to keep from crying out. The little needling pain in her spine had finally morphed into something that was debilitating and she was having trouble simply seating her horse and walking. Mart laid the blame at Remar's feet and there had already been several intense arguments over the whole ordeal. Remar only complained once about how slowly they had to go now and Mia knew he would've continued had Mart not silenced him the first time by uttering a sharp rebuttal in Elvish. She knew a smattering of the language and picked up a few words but the real meaning went over her head and she didn't bother to ask. They wouldn't have told her.

She downed the potion and sighed, trying to ease her weight again and unable to suppress another gasp. Closing her eyes and ignoring their scrutiny, she shoved the urge to cry viciously from her. She was used to pain, having grown up fighting with the servant boys and always persuading her father to let her learn sword fighting and archery, but it wasn't ever like this.

"You better take it easy, princess," Mart told her mildly as he moved away to pull out supper, "You'll only make it worse."

Mia was about to reply when Remar shot upright from his place by the fire ring, seeming to ignore that the newly built fire was responding to his proddings. Mart froze as well and they locked gazes. Immediately the Bosmer was at Mia's side again and Remar was freeing the blades at his belt and moving away from their camp. The princess felt a tightening around her ankles and wrists and Mart's voice was right at her ear.

"One wrong move, girl, and you will have more important things to worry about than back pain."

Mia was hardly listening, she was too busy concentrating on where Remar had disappeared. It wasn't until just then that she picked up the sounds of horses and her heart began racing. They hadn't come across another person for miles and Mia couldn't help but respond this way each time, hoping against hope that they would prove curious enough to look more closely at her.

"Is that your fire, my lord Elf?" A voice questioned and Mia struggled against invisible bonds, wanting to shout to that voice as she recognized the cultivated accent of one from the City but Mart made sure that was impossible.

"It is," Came Remar's reply, "I just left it burning while I came out to check a few snares. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Another voice answered and Mia's eyes welled with tears of frustration and homesickness. It was a voice she recognized: Hal, one of her father's most trusted guards and a man she considered closer than family.

"Perhaps," His voice was smooth, gentle, just like she always remembered, "How long have you been out this way, sir?"

"This is the second night," Remar was speaking easily, pleasantly, not at all like he was with Mart and Mia, "I'm returning home from Cheydinhal. Is there anything wrong?"

The horses shifted underneath the guards restlessly. Mia could only hear this because she was holding her breath and Mart had turned to stone beside her. She was desperate to move, shout, _anything_ , but it was no use. The Bosmer had frozen her again and all she could do was listen helplessly.

"Well, there's a man not far from here that has lost his daughter," It was Hal again and there was emotion in his voice that caused Mia's tears to spill over, "We're just trying to help find her. You haven't seen anything have you?"

"No, I'm sorry, sir, I haven't. Though my heart certainly goes out to the poor man. I'm eager to get home to my own brood as well and I can't imagine going through something like that," His lie came out with ease and familiarity and Mia felt bile rise in her throat, "I'm traveling with a fellow merchant and he's up by the fire. I could go ask him, if you like?"

The horses were shifting again and there was the sound of metal on metal as armor clinked together. _Liar, liar!!_ Mia's mind screamed, not caring that she was now crying profusely. _Oh, Uncle Hal, I'm here! Please, I'm here!_

"Oh, we won't take up any more of your time, my lord," It was the other guard answering and Mia felt her heart sink into the ground, "But if you happen across anything..."

"I'll get word to you as soon as I possibly can, sir," Remar finished for him and then tacked on with more fake subservience, "May the gods be with you and the best of luck."

The horses had already moved off a good distance before Remar was back and he immediately set about dousing their new fire. Mart left Mia where she was, wallowing in her own personal hell, and saddled the horses. There wasn't a word spoken between them and Mia couldn't stop her tears. She had been so close! Hal had been so close and her heart sank even more. She didn't even react as Mart returned and picked her up gently, placing her back in the mare's saddle and securing her there. As they moved out again, Mia couldn't feel the pain that had plagued her for hours. All she was thinking about was how much she wanted her father's arms around her.


	19. Chapter 19

Sul-Matuul couldn't stop staring at the two of them. His red eyes kept flickering between Katryn and Deryl and the items they had spread before him. It had taken some time to make their way out of Kogoruhn and the camp was mostly asleep when they returned. The Ashkhan's hut was guarded at all hours of course and since he was still awake, he saw them right away.

"I'm..." Sul Matuul began and then fell silent again. He reached out with one hand and traced the faint engraving on the Shadow Shield.

"It's alright," Deryl told him in a tone that was a little too bright, "You can tell us you didn't expect us to come back, it's – oww!"

Katryn was stepping towards the Ashkhan and nothing in her face gave away that she had just pinched Deryl hard enough on his exposed forearm to leave bruises. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her burning eyes met Sul-Matuul's.

"My lord, I know you promised us an answer on your judgement, but-"

"Oh, I believe you," The Ashkhan interrupted. He was looking at the carefully packaged corprus weepings with something close to awe, "There is no possible way anyone could have ventured into Kogoruhn, retrieved these weepings and come back whole."

The Nord shrugged a little. His muscles had gone beyond exhaustion and it was sheer willpower keeping him upright. Adding the sharp gashes and bruises left from the explosion and 'whole' wasn't the word he'd used to describe how he felt. Glancing at Katryn before he could help it, he saw that she looked how he was feeling and was shocked that she hadn't crashed yet.

"Whole? Not exactly," He replied, "But what a relief to know we've convinced you."

Katryn sent him a black look and Deryl pressed his lips together. He wasn't afraid to admit the Elf frightened him more than this camp and Kogoruhn's monsters combined, now that he knew what she was capable of.

"But that is not everything," She was saying quietly, her gaze fixed on Sul-Matuul, studying him closely. His carefully guarded expression was her answer and she released a breath, forcing herself to remain calm, "What is it?"

"You've got-" Deryl stopped short as Katryn gave a quick wave of her hand.

Sul-Matuul examined the Dagoth cup, obviously buying time before looking at them. He was hesitant to go on but they were having none of it.

"I'm afraid it is not that simple," He said.

Katryn cocked her head, one brow arching up and Deryl could see the Ashkhan had told her the wrong thing. Weariness was forgotten as she squared her shoulders and clearly dropped the deference she had shown because of his rank.

"These are dire times, my lord," She responded and the respectful title was merely tacked on as an afterthought, "I was sent here to follow up on Princess Mia's death threat. The plot I uncovered was one that had, at its core, blaming Deryl for her majesty's death. The outcome these people are hoping for is Cyrodiil to wage war on Morrowind and wiping out their opposition. Which includes, in part: the three Great Houses and four Chosen Tribes. We must succeed here to prevent any further action on the enemies' part and while the next step may not be simple, that has no bearing on us needing to know what comes next."

Deryl was just as shocked by Katryn's abrupt frankness as Sul-Matuul was and they both stared at her in wonder for a moment before the Ashkhan spoke.

"Why this sudden open honesty, Lady?" The elder Dunmer's tone matched her cool command, "What guarantee do you have that it will work?"

Katryn's little smile was practically damning to the camp as a whole. She had him trapped and she knew it.

"Trust, my lord," She said simply and she saw with pleasure that his eyes were flickering with respect, "Trust is one of the most important thing to you and me and the rest of our race. Now that I have proven my faith in your discretion, will you return the favor?"

Sul-Matuul was chuckling before he could help it and he ran one hand through his hair as he answered,

"Yes, I will. The most I can give you is a riddle that has been passed down for generations," He shrugged his shoulders, "The third trial verse is: 'In caverns dark Azura's eye sees; and makes to shine the moon and star.' There have been several interpretations of this verse and the argument on whether or not 'moon and star' is capitalized is centuries old. I happen to believe the original intention was to use proper nouns which means this is an object, not just a literal meaning. Whatever is truth, the prophecies claim it is held in the Cavern of the Incarnate."

"Whose location has never been a certainty," Katryn added in an undertone, her thoughts flying rapidly. She ignored Deryl's snort of exasperation and nodded at the Ashkhan, "What is the riddle?"

"'The eye of the needle lies in the teeth of the wind; the mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl; the dream is the door and the star is the key,'" Sul-Matuul's deep voice resonated in the small hut and he watched as Katryn mouthed the words verbatim.

Deryl was also watching her but instead of seeing her mind working at the riddle, (and no doubt knowing half the meaning already), all he could see were those lines of exhaustion and pain etched in her face. Her small shoulders were slumped and every time she shifted her right arm, even slightly, she winced. Quiet reigned in the yurt and Katryn was mouthing the words again. She ran a hand through her mussed hair and began tugging at a loose lock.

"And you don't-"

"Kat, this can wait until morning," Deryl interrupted in a tone that left no room for arguments, "It'd be better if we consider this after a good night's sleep."

"But there is not-"

"In the morning," The Nord didn't flinch as her eyes burned more brightly than he'd yet seen them and her jaw clenched stubbornly, "We'll pitch our tents just outside the camp. Will you be free in the morning for another meeting?"

Sul-Matuul inclined his head and was glad the Nord had been firm with Katryn. Both of these warriors were exhausted and their nerves seemed exceptionally frayed. He knew from long experience that discussions of strategy were never good unless the mind was fresh.

"I have postponed the hunting," He responded and then gave a wave with one hand, "But there is no need to leave the camp. The yurt next to mine is empty; the owner gladly offered it to the Nerevarine."

"Oh, my lord, that is not necessary," Katryn protested, her annoyance with Deryl forgotten, "We don't want to cause a rift."

"Nonsense, I insist," The Dunmer had suddenly become Ashkhan again, "It would be an oddity to announce you Nerevar and let the people see you come from the outskirts of camp. Please, it was offered out of kindness to the Nerevarine and his companion."

Deryl's grin couldn't have gone much wider as Katryn flushed pale blue and all her coherent arguments sailed out the window. Her flaming eyes were fixed on Sul-Matuul who seemed unaware of his slip-up. She wasn't able to look at the Nord even remotely and it took her a long moment to answer.

"Well, I suppose it will suit," She finally said softly and tried to ignore Deryl's surprised pleasure, "Thank you, my lord, it is most kind."

The yurt was spacious and clean with a fire ring in the center, low benches shoved against a quarter of the wall, a heavy screen at the opposite end and...

"One bedroll," Deryl observed with heavy innuendo. He was playing with fire and he knew it, but it happened to be one of his talents and Katryn made it so worthwhile.

"Three, actually," She replied as she dropped her pack and spread her bedroll on the rough woven rugs, "But wishful thinking never hurts."

He watched her pull clean clothes from her bag and cross to the screen. She didn't look at him as she disappeared behind it but he knew even one step in that direction would mean instant death.

"Which is why I keep it alive and well," The Nord answered, trying very hard to keep his thoughts coherent when he heard her clothes hit the floor. It was all too easy to create an image in his head that came from watching her so avidly over the past few days.

"And that is very admirable," Katryn came back around the screen and saw with a half glance that his thoughts were not exactly pure. She ignored him as she shoved the clothes into her bag before freeing her hair. It tumbled down onto her shoulders and she shook it back adding, "But next time shoot for _over_ your head, don't let the dream get caught halfway there. Good night."

The Elf was extinguishing the lamp beside her bedroll, leaving the one on the other side to illuminate her as she turned on the thin mattress, putting her back to him. Deryl was grinning like a fool while she tossed her hair behind her and made herself as comfortable as she could. _That_ was the reason it was so worth it to be an ass to her.

Too early for his liking, Katryn was shaking his shoulder and saying his name. He groaned, shrugging her off and turning to bury his head in his pillow. Vaguely, he could remember yet another dream and he wondered if she was waking him because he had another bad reaction.

"Deryl, please, wake up," Katryn's voice was insistent and her accent thicker than usual, proof that she had just gotten up as well, "I think I have figured out the riddle."

The Nord rolled onto his back and blinked up at her, not an easy thing to do. It wasn't even dawn yet and she hadn't bothered to light a lamp so he could just barely make out her form. Her eyes were glittering in the dark and he would have to have been blind to miss how rapidly her brain was working.

"What, Kat, what are you talking about?" He drawled, barely remembering to speak in Basic speech instead of reverting to Nordic.

"The riddle, Matuul's riddle," She answered and he knew from the Ashkhan's shortened name she must have thought of something. Her natural respect for these people was not a thing she took lightly, "'The eye of the needle lies in the teeth of the wind.' It's a place, Deryl, a landmark. The teeth of the wind, I should have recognized it. The teeth are rock formations about six miles from here. 'Teeth' is an old name for them. My father used to tell me stories when I was a child. 'The mouth of the cave lies in the skin of the pearl.' It must mean-"

"Kat," Deryl's sleep laced voice interrupted, annoyance clear in the tone.

"It must mean where the cavern is located exactly," Katryn murmured as though he never spoke, "The teeth are on either side of the beginnings of a valley. I wonder-"

"Katryn," The Nord snapped more firmly, sitting up and realizing how close she was perched next to him. He put both hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently towards her bedroll. His emotions were a little confusing. Under any other circumstances, he would have immediately set out bedding her and he wondered why he willingly put her away from him, "We're both exhausted and we need sleep. I believe you. I knew you'd figure out the riddle in no time, but right now there's nothing we can do about it. Go back to bed and we'll talk first thing in the morning."

"But this-"

"This can wait a few more hours," Deryl was being very firm and he squeezed her shoulders a little and frowned at her quick gasp and wince, "You won't be any good to me dead tired."

"Mar... Maybe you're right," She answered slowly, her burning eyes picking up the curious look he gave her at her rather stuttered response, "I'm sorry for waking you. We will talk in the morning."

Deryl could barely make out her shape as she moved away from him and he slowly laid back down. He silently cursed her as he stretched out, now fully awake and wondering who in the hell she had been about to speak of.

* * *

The Orc outside of Khuul's outpost was jolted from of a stupor at the sound of horses coming briskly down the road. He frowned and pushed himself away from the stone wall he had been leaned against. Stepping a little closer to the fire, he squinted into the darkness and wondered who could be coming at this hour. A moment later torches and their bearers came into view and he snapped upright as the flickering light gleamed on bright steel armor and chainmail. The dressings on the mounts belonged to the Imperial City and the Orc knew something had gone wrong. The outpost here was visited every few months by one of Baurus Coll's men but Bevlian always had enough warning to get the place in better shape. A shot of vindictive pleasure ran through him as he realized this time the bastard might not be so lucky.

Bevlian bolted upright as the wolfhounds let out deep growls. He sat still in his bed for a moment and listened intently for what the hounds had picked up. There, he could hear heavy boots coming up the steps and down the hallway. He eased out of bed and took up his longsword. The general had hardly positioned himself between the hounds when his door was opened without ceremony. He blinked in the flickering torchlight that two armored men brought with them and couldn't tell who it was until a familiar voice spoke almost jovially.

"Hello, Bevlian, it's been a while."

Bevlian felt his spine stiffen and unease pooled through him. He swept Baurus Coll a bow quickly to hide the indignant annoyance in his face and struggled to keep his composure as he did some very quick thinking. The City wasn't scheduled to check on things here until next month and though his first thought was that Baurus must simply be passing through, he knew that that was more than just wishful thinking on his part.

"General Coll," He greeted and clicked his tongue at the hounds both of which perched on their haunches, watching the intruders suspiciously, "To what do we owe the honor, sir?"

Baurus nodded to the guards with him and one stoked the fire in the grate while the other lit the oil lamps in the room. The Redguard settled at Bevlian's table and peered experimentally into one of the jugs in front of him. The heady smell of the empty pitcher told Baurus it was one of the Nordic ales Martin sent every few months to each of the outposts. Usually it was to be saved for celebrations and he glanced up at the clearly nervous younger man.

"What were you celebrating?" He questioned, ignoring Bevlian's earlier inquiry, "And is there any left?"

As usual, Baurus' easy, laid-back manner worked its charm and Bevlian allowed a small smile as he relaxed a little. It took everything in Baurus to keep himself from slamming the Altmer-Imperial against the wall and demanding to know what the hell was going on but Martin had cautioned against that. The Emperor had been more practical about this whole thing and he was wary of every little move they made. Even one false step, the barest stumble, and it could mean Mia's death. Baurus recalled the pain in Martin's voice as he had spoken those words and tried frantically to keep his temper in check.

"For you, General? Of course," Bevlian answered with a slime that made Baurus' skin crawl. He retrieved another jug from a cupboard in the corner of the room and poured them both a glass, "As far as celebrating, I'm afraid we had this out for a far more serious situation. Those two scouts that brought back the news of the threat on her Highness' life were killed while following up. Perhaps not the best use for it, but I felt I should treat the men to something."

Baurus' eyes were glittering maliciously, something he could feel and he could taste the bile in his throat. Unconsciously he was tightening his fist around the mug and he forced himself to stop before he dented the metal completely.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Bevlian," He tried to inject more warmth into his voice and had no luck. The Imperial didn't seem to notice, "As for why we're here, bursting in on you in the middle of the night: I''m on my way back to the City from Ald Velothi. This was a little out of my way, but I wanted to follow up with you about Lady Kenslin's visit. I haven't seen her yet. She spoke with you, didn't she?"

Bevlian was frowning into his mug, wondering what Baurus was getting at. Another wave of uneasiness went through him. The condition of the fort wasn't all that important anymore. If this was about his late night visitor... He shook that thought away. Baurus said he hadn't spoken with Kenslin yet and that meant he wasn't sure of anything.

"I did, sir, but I wasn't able to help her either. With my men being... gone, it wasn't possible for her to get the information that she wanted," He was pleased with his somber tone, "And I must say, General, the Lady kept me waiting all the next day as well. Before she left, she spoke of wanting to return and never came. Was there some sort of emergency?"

Baurus forced a smile as he swirled the contents of his mug. He saw that the two guards had moved to block the door from any others that might try to come in, or go out. Below in the courtyard he had left his men to search the outpost and speak with the soldiers while he distracted Bevlian. This whole place was a disgrace and the animosity he felt for Bevlian was fueled mostly by his failure to spot the poor conditions here much earlier.

"Something like that," The Redguard answered and the jovial tone was back. He couldn't contain himself any longer and he cocked his head at the Imperial, "If you consider Princess' Mia's abduction an emergency, that is. Though maybe you don't. Afterall, there doesn't seem to be much that moves you."

Bevlian froze and his pale green eyes locked on Baurus' accusing black. His fingers tightened around the cup he held and he had to remind himself to breathe.

"General, I-"

"Save it," Baurus didn't raise his voice and there was hardly even an edge to the words. He was studying Bevlian closely, reading him like a book and knowing the excuses he was about to use before the man himself did, "The conditions of this outpost are atrocious, the men haven't been fed well for months and the money we pour into this place because you conveniently 'lose' food and supplies is better spent elsewhere. Consider this your termination, Bevlian."

The Imperial blinked in surprise. He hadn't been sure what to expect and it clearly was not that. With the mention of the princess, he thought that it was going to be about the Elf that dropped in all those weeks ago and now... The shock on his face was at least legitimate.

"General, please-"

"I'm not finished," Baurus snapped and leaned forward, pleased by how Bevlian's eyes flickered with trepidation. He continued in a softer, more dangerous voice, "You're lucky the Emperor wants an audience with you. If it was left to me, you'd be regretting the day you were born. And this would be before we even _talk_ about your kidnapping scheme. Lying about it is one thing, carrying it out... well, that's something else entirely."

Bevlian's eyes flashed and his fear was forgotten in the face of this new accusation. He slammed the mug down onto the table with more force than necessary and ignored the ale that slopped onto his fingers. He shot to his feet as the two guarding the door grabbed his arms and he fought against them.

"That's a damn lie!" He shouted as he tried to wrench himself free. It was no use, the men were already tying his wrists together, "I never-"

"We have proof, you bastard!" Baurus was shouting back, on his feet as well and letting his temper get the better of him, "You met with one of those damn-"

"It was this Nerevar! He was the one that wanted her! Deryl Lofolk is behind everything!"


	20. Chapter 20

"How did you know about this place?" Deryl asked her as they settled where they could watch the faintly carved stone face.

"I told you, my father used to tell us stories," Katryn rubbed at her shoulder and winced. She had slept hard before her mind started working on the riddle and had a total of about three hours of sound sleep. Her body was aching from the exertion and she wished she had been able to get at least a few more hours of rest.

"Okay, so how did he know?" The Nord persisted and frowned briefly at her look of pain.

"I don't think I can tell you that, Lofolk. One of those Dunmer things unfortunately."

Deryl was looking down at her in surprise and had to chuckle as she leaned back against the stone they were perched on with a small smile gracing her full lips.

"Clever," He replied and watched her stretch in the watery sunlight that poked through the cloud cover. She was relaxing more and more in his presence and he liked that, "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

She furrowed her brows and met his gaze. Her eyes were dancing and she tipped her head in the sunshine, allowing it to warm her face.

"One question at a time, Deryl," She said and eyed the sun's position in the sky, "My father's great grandfather was a warrior for the Marland tribe. They are nomadic but at the time they were settled not far from here. Father grew up listening to stories from his parents and grandparents and he returned the favor. Like I said 'teeth of the wind' is an old name, one that's been almost forgotten, obviously."

Deryl made himself comfortable next to her, enjoying the fact that he was close enough for their shoulders and knees to brush and she wasn't shying away from him. They had left first thing in the morning and hiked all day through the foothills and valleys of the region. The weather was somewhat cooperative and though the ground was churning with thick mud and melting snow, the rains had lessened. Katryn and Sul-Matuul had been certain of the location of the Cavern after a quick study of one of the older maps in the Ashkhan's yurt and Deryl simply went along with them. The Elves hadn't given time for arguments and Katryn's persistence had paid off. She was the one that had spotted the faint markings in the rock face and Deryl could just make them out from their perch. It had been quite pleasant traveling through the green valley and watching the rock faces of the mountain range grow closer with every step. Katryn was chipper and excited now that they were making tangible progress and Deryl was more than happy to give her chances to tease him.

"And the shoulder?" He questioned, wanting to know what was going on. The idea that she might be at a disadvantage made him feel uncomfortable and he hoped this wasn't anything serious, "Is it from yesterday and should I keep you out of this one?"

"Not a chance, Lofolk," She replied rapidly with a half smile, "It is not from yesterday, no. I took a spear point to the shoulder 16 years ago and it hasn't ever been the same."

"Another hero thing?"

"Yes," Her voice was quieter now and without him asking, she continued with the story, "The Battle for Bruma was instigated by us because we needed a Great Sigil stone. The Sigil Stones contain the power that keeps Oblivion gates open in the human realm. Once it's taken from its place, the gates collapse on themselves. The only way to get a Great Sigil at the time was to force the enemy to make their move and they complied," The Elf paused briefly to study the sun again. They had maybe another half hour before the door would be visible. That was the easiest part of the riddle to figure out. 'The dream is the door and the star is the key'; all Katryn had to do was remember it was Azura's riddle and recall Gozrak's confusion over the obsession with dawn and dusk, "It was decided early on that Gozrak, myself and two of the countess' soldiers would be the ones to retrieve the stone but the attack was worse than expected. It was not just the Great Gate that was conjured; there were two smaller Oblivion gates that unleashed hordes of Daedra. We were separated in the fight to get to the Great Gate and I entered alone because time was rather of the essence."

"Why?" Deryl asked and to his credit it was only the first interruption since she started. He was enthralled by her soft accented voice and wondering why he hadn't asked for more stories earlier, "I mean, apart from the Daedra around you, couldn't you have held off until the others reached the Gate as well?"

A bitter smile curved her lips as she shook her head a little. Those were the exact thoughts that had gone through her head that day all those years ago and despite the sacrifice she'd had to make, she could not begin to regret her decision.

"Not exactly. I guess I should have explained that. The Great Gate is conjured when the enemy wants to lay siege to a city or annihilate their foes completely. Standard Oblivion gates have the hordes while Great Gates have siege weapons. Usually there is a window of 25 to 30 minutes time before the weapons emerge and all is lost. There was no time to wait for help and so I went alone. I had no disillusions; I was well aware that it was likely to be the last thing I would ever do. But I was determined to get as close to that Sigil stone as possible," She shrugged and tried to ignore that little bit of pain that went through her. At the time of that battle, she was still fending Martin off and knowing it was useless. She had been aware of her love for him even then and was willing to do anything to escape the confusing feelings, "I entered the tower where the stone was located and made my way to the top. It was just before the Sigil room that I ran into two Dremora and a single scamp. The fight was ugly and I was not quick enough to defend against one of the Dremora that shoved his spear at me. Matti, the Blades' healer, did all that she could and prevented infection but... the damage was done."

"You mean, it's always been a pain?" Deryl clarified and tried to imagine going through something like that. He couldn't and his respect for this pretty little Elf was growing by the second.

"Well, it has been some time since I've done this much fighting and my shoulder is letting me know it, just not very kindly," She answered simply and was surprised that she had chosen to be so candid about this particular story. It wasn't one of the better ones, that was sure.

"Was there a delay in the healing?" He questioned, wanting to know exactly what had happened and taking the oportunity now that she was open and talkative, "I mean, if you had gotten to the healer sooner, would things have been different?"

"Matti saw me as soon as she was able," Katryn replied slowly, wishing that she didn't have to go into anymore detail.

"Were you wrong? Was that not the last room before the Sigil stone?"

The Elf sighed and decided to get it out in the open. Deryl would persist until he knew the truth and she took the easy way out.

"No, I wasn't wrong," Even she heard how quiet her voice had become, "I was the first to come across the Grandmaster Jauffre. He had been badly wounded, but was... was still alive. I stayed with him until the end. I remember his... death but I collapsed right after and I don't remember much of the healing process. I just live with the aches and pains now."

The Nord was watching her avidly as she got to her feet and proceeded to string her bow. Her pain and grief was obvious and in an uncharacteristic show of empathy, Deryl didn't push the subject.

"I'm sorry, Kat," He murmured and wanted to go on but was, for once, speechless.

"No need to apologize," She answered and straightened, motioning to the engravings, "Are you ready?"

He nodded and moved beside her as they walked to the rock face and stood before it. Much like Holamayn, the doorway simply appeared in faint lines that grew bolder as the sun began setting. Katryn stepped forward, not quite sure what the incantation was but using her magic anyway. The rock disappeared at her slightest touch and they entered the cavern yawing before them after Deryl lit one of his torches. The tunnel they found themselves in was clearly hand dug but the walls bore no evidence of tools being used and the engravings and small statues placed in niches hadn't been touched in years. All of the ornaments were related to Azura and when they rounded a corner and walked a few more paces, the Nord's torchlight fell on a life-sized statue of the goddess. Katryn studied this with interest, drawing the comparison of Cyrodiil's likeness. The planes of Azura's face were the same and her eyes were done with such talent, it almost appeared as though they were alive. Where the statue in Cyrodiil had her arms crossed over her chest the one here was cupping her hands together, arms extended and face uplifted. They moved a little closer and light flickered over something sparkly in the stone hands.

"A ring?" Deryl asked as he glanced at Katryn, "Is this what Sul-Matuul meant for us to retrieve?"

"'Star-blessed hand wields thrice-cursed blade,'" The Elf murmured and didn't seem to register his question, "'In caverns dark Azura's eye sees and makes to shine the moon and star.' It is yours, Deryl, take it."

He arched his brows and couldn't help but glance down at her with a little smile.

" _I_ should take it? Is this a trick?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You are the Nerevarine and that ring is meant for you," She replied simply and shifted her weight as she glanced around the cavern. The feeling of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach grew and she was suddenly inexplicably nervous about going any further, "So take it."

"If I die, hero, I'll never forgive you," He muttered and stepped forward, gently taking the ring from the stone fingers.

It looked small in the torchlight and the Nord shifted back to Katryn so she could see it. The color was silvery though on closer inspection it was obvious it wasn't made of silver. It was simple and unadorned and hard as rock. Deryl swapped hands with the torch and slid the ring onto his pinky finger where it fit just right. They waited for a moment longer as though expecting the walls and ceiling to cave in on them and then the Nord was grinning at her with his old swagger.

"I guess this settles it," He said cheerfully and then whirled, pushing her behind him and drawing his sword as his name was whispered from a little farther down the hall.

"Deryl-"

"Shh!" He interrupted and strained to listen. There were no footsteps, no separate voices and then the deliberate calling of his name came again. He didn't look at her when he asked in a voice below a whisper, "Don't you hear that?"

Katryn was looking at him as though he was crazy and he actually wondered if he was until her expression changed to one of understanding and she slowly shook her head.

"No," She answered and followed suite, keeping her tone quiet, "But that does not surprise me. Go, Deryl, this is part of your trial."

The Nord took a hesitant step and when he didn't feel her follow, he glanced back in alarm. Katryn felt her heart go out to him a little at the lost expression in his face and she steeled her resolve. Her nature was to help and as much as he annoyed her, she couldn't stifle that initial response.

"You're coming?" He was asking while already knowing the answer.

And he received an affirmation. The Elf shook her head more firmly and took a small step back, her hands behind her.

"Not this time," She said, still soft and this time she instilled warmth to her tone, "I am here to help, Deryl, but the trials... these are your responsibility. I can't be involved with this step. That voice called to you, not me. If anything happens, shout; I'll be here."

The Nord waffled for a moment longer and then obviously heard the call again when his head jerked back to the tunnel. He set his chin stubbornly and Katryn's admiration grew a little when he gave her a nod and continued on without another argument. As soon as he rounded the next corner, darkness enveloped Katryn. Not that it mattered. Her eyes were adjusting and she could see enough to make sure nothing would poke or stab her if she sat on the ground. She put her back to the wall and the statue to her right, making it possible to watch for Deryl's return and the passage to the outside.

The cavern was quiet, she couldn't even hear Deryl's footsteps and the uneasiness was still a needling in the back of her head. Something about this place made her feel unwelcome, like she should have waited outside instead of accompanying him. But she had promised to stay and was not about to go back on her word.

 _You've already broken one promise._ Gozrak's words echoed through her head and she shook it. She didn't want to think about her Orc right now because thoughts of him automatically became thoughts of Martin and without Deryl's presence here serving as a distraction... but it was too late. Her priest flashed before her eyes and it was the old Martin: the one she had gotten to know shortly after the truth of his royal blood became general knowledge. Handsome face was creased in a gentle smile and his bright blue eyes, so striking, were lively and kind. Her heart twisted with pain and she tipped her head against the wall. That was how she had always wanted to remember him, but the mind played cruel tricks and he morphed into that broken man she had left years ago. The one who had begged her to help his daughter and the one he became when she pushed him away that night he tried to kiss her...

She couldn't prevent the shiver that trembled through her. His passion for her was alive and well and vice versa, when she was being honest with herself. Before Martin, there had only been one other man she loved passionately; or so she thought. When she considered it now, it never ceased to shock her at how wrong she had been back then. Her love for Martin was real; something tangible, something that her priest had seen and acted on long before she had and it was not a happy thought. She had given up more than she could ever know and the pain of the past nearly 16 years was the biggest obstacle keeping her from picking up where they left off. She wasn't an idiot, she was well aware that even if Martin turned the other way and took her in again without a word, she herself would have to spend some time getting over the damage.

There was a sudden commotion from the end of the passage where Deryl had disappeared and before anything else, Katryn could hear the Nord cursing in his own tongue. She leapt to her feet making out his shape as he came around the corner running as if his life depended on it. He had dropped his torch and was completely blind and her first thought was what the hell had he done _now?!_

"Katryn! Kat!!" He hollered, almost colliding with the dirt and rock wall he couldn't see.

"I'm here," She called back with a frown, "Deryl, what-"

"Run!! Don't look back, run!" He shouted as he reached her and his fingers dug into her arm painfully, puling her behind him.

Katryn had no choice but to follow and it was then she could hear a rushing that sounded like a wind storm before she could make out words. It was an old language, a version of Elvish and the one word she could understand in this mass of whispers was 'deceiver.' Her irritation peaked in spite of their predicament and more than anything she wanted to stop and demand to know what the Nord had done. But then the walls and the floor did indeed begin pitching and rolling violently, slamming them into the stone as they tried to round the last corner. Ice cold air enveloped them and the whispering became even louder, angrier, as the ghosts of the place realized they were getting away. Chunks of stone began raining down on them and Katryn narrowly missed a section that would have done more than just bruise. The door was ahead of them with the dying daylight just visible and the Elf saw what was coming long before Deryl did. The floor had fallen away from the doorway and the cracks were spreading up the walls, putting the whole cavern in jeopardy. Small stones shook loose and disappeared into the chasm that seemed to be growing larger and the Elf knew they would have just one chance. Deryl could finally make out what was coming and he cursed sharply, starting to slow.

"Deryl, jump!" Katryn ordered frantically, putting out one hand to push him.

" _What?!_ Are you-"

"Jump!!"

The Nord did as she asked and leaped as Katryn cast her shield charm when the wall caved practically on top of them. Deryl had just reached the other side when Katryn leapt the distance as well, barely escaping the weight of the stone and dirt that tried to send her to the bottom of the chasm. She plowed into him and they both tumbled head over heels, limbs tangling, before they landed a few yards from the cavern door, Deryl's weight pinning the Elf to the ground. She watched as the last of the daylight faded and the door disappeared. There was a muffled sound of crashing stone and then silence and she dropped her head back to the ground, closing her eyes. The adrenaline was leaving them and that was why their current, rather compromising position didn't bother her too much. His breath came in warm puffs on her ear and she could feel his heartbeat against her own. The smell of leather armor and something earthy was clinging to him and she found herself liking it.

"Are you going to tell me what that was?" She asked and still didn't open her eyes. After nearly meeting her death where she least expected to, she wanted to go on just feeling someone else that was alive and warm.

"You almost got me killed, hero," He answered and shifted his weight a little to prop himself on his arms and look down at her. When her smouldering eyes met his with more than a hint of disbelief, he wanted nothing more than to say something suggestive and lewd, or at the very least kiss her. But he was enjoying the warmth her body radiated and the way he was pressed against her too much to blow it now.

" _I_ almost got _you_ killed?" She repeated, "I was not with you, Lofolk. Would you mind explaining that one to me?"

"Only if both of us get to stay where we are," He challenged and then could've kicked himself. The feel of her, the knowledge that she was still alive and the fact that he could reassure himself with just the touch was something he was reveling in and he didn't want it to end.

"I figured that," The Elf replied and the orange and red sky in the setting sun made her more beautiful than Deryl had ever imagined, "Which is why I'll agree. We have a deal."

"I knew you'd come around sooner or later," Deryl said and then continued with the story when her eyes flashed and she coolly arched a brow, "Well, there was a room not far from the statue and it had obviously been used as a home for someone. There were chests and an old bedroll and an ancient fire ring. I had barely even walked in when 6... ghosts, I guess, appeared and talked to me. They were fallen incarnates. At least that's what they called themselves and they each gave me a different item to use: books, an axe, a couple pairs of robes. Anyway, they seemed to think that it was their responsibility to protect this cavern and they got a little... touchy about you being there. They said that you were an imposter and should be taken care of; that I shouldn't trust you because you could be with me just to gain some of the glory yourself. I told them they were wrong and they didn't believe me. One of them said that it was either I take care of you or they would and then assured me that I would get out alive. I had just shoved everything into the pack when they made their move and that's why I came flying at you."

Katryn was nodding and she let out a little sigh.

"I wondered if that would happen. I had a bad feeling about the whole thing," She met his gaze again, "Deryl, I can help you with the steps, talk to people for you, but the actual trials are your responsibility. I don't think I can accompany you on any others. It's too dangerous and you have to succeed."

"And if I need you?" He questioned and was actually partially serious.

"Then I will prepare you as best I can."


	21. Chapter 21

Bhaer could sense the unease in the palace before they even reached the doors. Len, meanwhile, was just immensely relieved to finally be home. He greeted the guards at the doors who were pleasantly surprised to see him and would have detained him with more questions had he not tactfully reminded them he had to report to the Emperor. It was then that Bhaer's suspicions were roused. The men reacted too somberly to so simple a request and they instantly stepped back, their faces becoming grave. The Altmer seemed not to notice or was just too distracted to do so and he entered the palace with the air that he belonged.

"The royal palace, Bhaer," Len said and his joy was a tangible thing, "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

The Nord shrugged his powerful shoulders as Sheil dogged his steps even more closely. He barely glanced around, not able to suppress the fear that they had come too late.

"Skyrim is no wasteland," He replied mildly, "But our palace is nothing like this."

Len nodded his head and motioned to one of the serving maids that was entering the gardens. She dropped a bow, her white blonde hair falling forward in her face. Knocking it back with one hand, the slender girl straightened and met Len's direct gaze.

"My lord?" She questioned in a soft voice that held just the barest trace of a Nordic accent.

"Is his Highness here?"

"Yes, my lord, he is in his library," She replied and sent a curious look across at Bhaer, "Shall I show you up?"

Len, eager to do things right, nodded his head. It was professionalism at all costs with him and Bhaer had to bite back a smile as they followed the maid up a few flights of stairs and down the hall. She knocked on the door with one slim hand and then stated the Elf's name to the guard that greeted them. He beckoned them and the girl disappeared.

Martin was sitting as his desk when the guard announced them. He frowned at the sound of Len's name and dropped the documents that he'd been trying with little success at reading. His thoughts were on Mia and Katryn jointly and this new distraction was very welcome.

"My lord," Len greeted, wincing as he bowed to the Emperor, "I bring news."

"By the gods, Kerlan," Martin muttered as he took in the Elf's appearance. Len had been with the family since Mia was 3 years old and though Martin had seen him run-down, hung-over and one very memorable night completely drunk, he had never seen quite this much damage, "What happened?"

Len shrugged his shoulders slightly and regretted it. His wince spoke volumes, he knew, and he was reaching the end of his strength reservoir. It had been a long, grueling trip and having broken ribs and jaw, cuts and bruises that were still tender and barely healing, a wrenched ankle and vision quite poor in one eye, he just wasn't up for much more.

"That is a long story, sire," He answered and glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that the princess wasn't in her usual chair by the window. Lessons would have long been completed and Mia had always retreated to her father's library when she finished, "But please, my lord, tell me the Princess is safe."

Bright blue eyes flickered before becoming dead once more as the Emperor stood from his desk and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing to the window where his daughter's perch was. He made a show of studying the view as he searched for the right words and tried desperately to keep his emotions under control. It was not easy. Lately the feeling that Mia needed him more than she ever had before had been consuming him; and it wasn't just because she was kidnapped. He knew that, beyond the obvious, she was hurt and that knowledge was crushing. Baurus' news about Bevlian's confession didn't help either and now his worry for Katryn was added to everything. Flaming eyes set in a heart shaped face and full lips curled into a gentle, rather enigmatic smile made his heart skip. _Oh, Kat, if there was ever a time I needed you more!_

"Sire?" Len's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Martin drew in a sharp breath and trailed the fingers of one hand along the back of his daughter's chair. _Don't stop fighting, Mia! We're coming for you, love._

"I would give everything to tell you that she was, Len," He finally answered and straightened his shoulders as he turned back to the room in time to see the Elf's face fall, "She was taken 4 nights ago. Baurus went to the outpost responsible for sending us news of the threat on her life and we have taken the General Bevlian into custody. He in turn has told us that Deryl Lofolk, Morrowind's Nerevarine, is the one behind all of this. Currently, I have sent out soldiers to verify this."

"But that's a lie," Len exclaimed, weariness and pain forgotten as he realized how big a blunder this could be, "Lofolk is their key, yes, but he is not involved. Please, sire, don't do anything drastic. You will be playing into their hands and we can't allow that. Deryl Lofolk _has_ to succeed; he may be the only thing keeping Princess Mia alive."

* * *

"Of course you had to choose Ald'ruhn," Deryl's sarcastic voice was just audible over the sound of the sand storm, "We could've gone to Vivec and dealt with the Hlaalu House. At least then we would have been close to the salt water."

Katryn rolled her eyes, pulling the scarf even closer to her head and shoving the door to the Under-Skar open before gratefully ducking out of the fierce winds. She unwound the scarves and tugged her clothing straight. Beside her, Deryl was rubbing at his eyes and knocking the sand from his hair.

"And then we only would've had to deal with rain and fog. I still don't-"

"Stop whining, Lofolk," She interrupted, "We are out of the weather now. And it made no sense to travel down to Vivec, jump to Tel Vos and then come back this way."

He had to give her that point and followed as she made her way across the swinging wood and rope bridge to the middle support of the Under-Skar. The bridges all converged to the center and then spread out to the perimeter, making it possible to reach the doors of the underground manors here. At the bottom of the structure, some 20 feet below them, were high end shops, selling fine clothing, jewelry, potions and herbs, weapons and books. There were pawn shops and smithies, inns and bars outside the Under-Skar, but those seemed to cater solely to the working class.

"Well, we could have gone to the rest of the tribes then," Deryl continued, knowing he was getting desperate and unable to help himself.

"Give up," The Elf didn't miss a beat, "Sul-Matuul and Nibani were right. They have to have a chance to explain to the other tribes why they are making this decision. The Four tribes function on a honor system of sorts and the Urshilaku will present their reasons for joining you and try to convince the others as well. That will take time."

"So, know-it-all, what happens now?" He retaliated and loved the sight of her grin.

"We talk with the members of House Redoran and try to convince them to proclaim you the Nerevar. Which will not be an easy task at this point. First we'll talk with Athyn Sarethi. He has been the unspoken leader of the Redoran House for the past few years and he will also be the most willing to listen. He should be able to instruct us further."

Deryl was looking at her with some awe now and he nearly ran into the support post of the next bridge. Ignoring the way she snorted a little, he fell in beside her and made sure he could brush her arm with his own which annoyed her instantly.

"I was joking with the 'know-it-all' thing, hero," He replied as they skirted a Telvanni guard and approached a beautifully carved wood door, "Do I want to know the reason why you have all this stored in your head?"

Katryn arched her brows slightly and shrugged. She knew he would love to know the reason behind this and she didn't think she'd mind all that much to tell him.

"I had a friend whose father was part of the Redoran. He was very instrumental in promoting Sarethi to the upper ranks. This has been several years ago but Sarethi will still be the wisest choice for us."

" _Had_ a friend?" Deryl repeated, pouncing on the implication much like Katryn thought he would, "One you were involved with for about 3 ½ months?"

The Elf rolled her eyes and studied the pull rope hanging beside the door before giving it a quick tug. The echoing chimes could be heard, pealing faintly through the manor house. She glanced up at him and didn't like the expectant, rather triumphant look on his face.

"You already guessed he was from the Blade days, remember?" She answered, not liking even that small victory for him.

"But you never said one way or the other for sure. And now I know, thanks," He replied.

Katryn sent a look up at him and was interrupted when the door was pulled open. A young Dunmer boy bowed to them both.

"Is the Lord Sarethi available?" Katryn asked, pushing her irritation with Deryl away.

"Names, please," The boy replied formally as he admitted them to foyer.

Katryn hesitated before shooting Deryl a warning glance and answering,

"Tell him friends of Arlo Laner are here to see him. He will know what that means."

The young Dunmer bowed again and disappeared down a hallway only to return moments later to beckon them to follow. They started after him and true to form Deryl couldn't allow her to have the last word.

"So, someone from those days for sure," He said quietly, well aware the boy was listening, "And not Baurus Coll. I don't think it'd be your current Grandmaster either because... well, let's face it, he's a Khajiit and they hardly ever choose anyone outside their race."

"Don't be ridiculous," She answered easily. Waving one hand and almost blowing her farce, she continued, "Just because it is rare, doesn't mean it won't happen."

Deryl faltered, staring at her in open mouthed shock, rising to the bait. Katryn had no qualms leading him to believe it was Steffan she was in love with. At least then he might leave her alone about it for a while. The Elf had continued after the Dunmer boy who was turning a corner and approaching another door. Deryl was beside her again instantly.

"You're joking," He claimed, not sounding in the least like he believed his own words, "You seem to keep an open mind, but this? There's no way."

She smothered her grin and met his gaze with a shrug.

"The Nords may be prejudiced against Khajiits but that doesn't mean everyone else is. Open your own mind, Lofolk."

The Nord didn't have the chance to respond. The Dunmer was motioning them in and disappearing again. Athyn Sarethi was standing before an open fireplace, hands behind his back and shoulders slumped in such a way Katryn felt a prickling of unease creep through her. He was much like she remembered: tall, lithe and with exceptionally kind red eyes. There were new lines in his face that spoke of age and grief and the signs of exhaustion were evident even through the black skin.

"Friends of Arlo Laner are always welcome," He said and his deep voice was smooth and rather sad, "What can I do for you? Do you wish to join the Redoran House?"

There was something off about this whole stage and Katryn could tell even Deryl felt it. He didn't blurt out their names and his shock over the Steffan implications had gone. The Elf stepped forward and met Sarethi's gaze with a small smile.

"Do you remember me, my lord?" She asked, "It has been nearly 25 years since we last met."

Sarethi studied her intently for a moment and just as soon as he was going to shake his head, the red eyes widened with recognition. He smiled and though it was genuine, it still didn't reach his eyes. Stepping to her, he took her hand in his and pressed it.

"Katryn Gwynyth,"He said pleasantly, "You have become quite a legend, my girl."

"Not just me," She protested. She waved one hand at Deryl and added, "Deryl Lofolk, he's... Sir, he is the Nerevarine and we are in need of your counsel."

Sarethi started and fixed his gaze on Deryl with the same intensity he had shown Katryn. The scarlet eyes finally found the moon and star ring resting on the Nord's finger and he dropped Katryn's hand. Reaching out with his own, he questioned,

"May I see that?"

"Sir, we haven't been sure how safe it is for any but the Nerevar to handle it," Katryn cut in, "Even I have yet to touch it. If it helps, I was in the cavern with him when he found it."

"I need to see it," Sarethi insisted.

Deryl held up his hand and wiggled his fingers.

"You can see it just fine, old man," He answered in an understandably biting tone.

"Lofolk!" Katryn exclaimed and with an impatient sigh, she positioned herself beside the Nord, grabbed his hand and held it steady as Sarethi leaned closer to examine the ring.

Deryl didn't put up a fight, didn't even argue back. Instead his eyes, still that pale green, locked on Katryn's and he shifted his thumb just enough to rub it against the pulse in her wrist. She arched one brow and stalwartly didn't move, hating the fact that her heart leapt a little and he could feel it. He smirked but it wasn't his usual grin; his eyes were smouldering too much for that.

"Well, I'm honored to be in the Nerevarine's company," Sarethi said finally and Katryn immediately released him, trying to ignore how his fingers brushed her wrist rather intimately as he let his own hand fall, "Come, sit and I will try to help."

They seated themselves on furniture that reminded Katryn sharply of her seaside cottage and made her miss Cleo and Hecter and Immel's family. Over glasses of fine red wine, they jointly told Sarethi of Deryl's completed tasks. Katryn listened with rapt interest to his story of contracting corprus and felt her compassion pique at his fears of never being healed. She also told of her own task of trying to keep the princess safe and after half an hour if not more, Deryl sat back and met Sarethi's gaze.

"So now we've come to you," He said, "Katryn has already mentioned that the Urshilaku are going to talk to the other tribes. That meant we had the time to come here and try to gain the support of the Great Houses."

"And you came to me first?" Sarethi's brows arched and that same sadness Katryn had previously noted was back.

"I thought it the wisest choice," She cut in, the wine glass suspended between her slender fingers as though she forgot she held it, "Is there something wrong, sir? Should we have chosen differently?"

Sarethi smiled faintly, running the tip of one finger around the rim of his cup.

"I am not the head of the Redoran House," He replied rather apologetically, "That would be Bolvyn Venim and you will receive no help from him. Nor will he announce you Hortator. The kindhearted justice that won him his seat has long since faded. The Council has met several times, in secret, to discuss his termination, but nothing has been decided."

Katryn was frowning at him fully now, reading so much more of what he didn't say.

"Athyn, what is going on here?" She pressed, making him start with the use of his first name, "There is something you're not telling us."

The elder Dunmer tipped his head back and studied the ceiling and Katryn's unease deepened.

"It is no wonder Varvur and Kent couldn't keep secrets from you," He answered and his eyes met hers, "Bolvyn suspected what we were doing and in order to find out the truth, he made threats and issued beatings and... took Varvur. Last night Varvur and several of his friends had gone out. One of them returned in the wee hours of the morning with a split lip, broken nose and the message that Bolvyn was holding Varvur until I agree to confess what the Council had planned."

Katryn's indignant expression didn't last long and her eyes were flashing brilliantly. Setting her jaw in stubborn determination, she spoke at the same time Deryl did.

"Kent?" The Nord murmured for her ears only, one brow arched and eyes turning emerald as they danced.

"Being held?" Katryn repeated, ignoring him, "Have you spoken with any authorities?"

Sarethi gave a noncommittal grunt and waved one hand dismissively. His expression was angry but it wasn't directed at them. His emotions were roiling. He had been going from incensed anger to absolute despair for hours and now all he had room for was exhaustion.

"Things have changed since the days Arlo and I were plotting while the three of you terrorized the foreign delegates," He answered, placing the barely touched glass of wine on the table and getting to his feet to pace about the room, "All of the Under-Skar Telvanni are under Venim's thumb and even one peep from me would mean my own imprisonment or quite possibly Varvur's... death. No, I have not spoken of it, except to you."

Deryl glanced between the two Elves, only to see that both of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Katryn was obviously thinking of all the ways they could get this Varvur back, and probably land themselves in prison, and Sarethi was clearly through with thinking in general. The Nord's curiousity about what Kent and Varvur might mean to Katryn had to take a backseat and he found himself asking the necessary questions.

"So to gain the Hortator title-"

"Bolvyn won't give it to you," Sarethi interrupted, "He believes the prophecies but has always been one to cling to the theory that the Nerevarine would return as one of us. He has no love for the Nordic people and it is not worth the trouble to approach him."

"What do you propose we do then?" Deryl questioned, his voice impatient.

Sarethi's eyes were suddenly lit with a rather manic energy and he glanced between them. Katryn was still quiet but she was looking at him expectantly and he wondered what sort of impact his words were going to have on her.

"There is only one way to deal with Redoran nobles in times like this," He began slowly, "If you were to challenge Bolvyn to a dual under the guise that you are my champion, he will have no choice but to accept or look like a coward in front of everyone. They are called honor killings and since he is holding my son, I have reason to challenge him."

"Athyn, you can't expect-"

"Would the other nobles respect that? I mean, if I kill Venim and you support my Nerevarine claim, will the rest of the Council fall in with you?"

Deryl had spared a brief, calculating look at Katryn and she was well aware of the fear in her voice. Honestly, what did he expect?! He was being a fool and if he got himself killed... well she didn't want to think of what it might mean for Martin and his daughter.

"With the exception of maybe two or three, yes," Sarethi looked exhilarated for the first time since they had started speaking and this was the man Katryn remembered, "But they will not stand a chance with the rest of us. Like I said, we have been searching for a way to destroy him for months. But don't make a rash decision. Think on it first."

"No need," Deryl replied simply, not in the least perturbed by the fact that he might be hastening his own death. He felt the irritation pour from Katryn but kept his eyes on Sarethi, "Have your man send word and we'll get this over with. The sooner the better."

Sarethi was more than a little shocked by Deryl's instant capitulation and he studied the Nord briefly before glancing at Katryn. The Elf was annoyed and frustrated, the look on her face he had seen numerous times when Varvur and Kent had tried to cajole her into helping with their pranks. But behind that she was fearful for Deryl and made him wonder even more strongly what the young man might mean to her.

"Very well," He answered and gave another bell pull a quick tug. The door was opened and the same Dunmer boy entered the room, "Nelick will show you my collection of armor and weapons and give you a private room. If I know Bolvyn at all, he will accept immediately. Katryn, my dear, can I speak with you privately?"

Katryn, set on following Deryl and forcing him to reconsider, knew her expression was less than pleased as she nodded. Sarethi barely saw it. He seated himself at his desk and quickly wrote out a message. Sealing it with his ring and handing it to the young Dunmer, he added,

"Take this to Lord Venim directly. See that _you_ are the one to place it in his hands and don't leave without his answer."

The boy bowed and waved Deryl to the door before leaving the other Elves alone. Katryn was fuming. One hand was pulling at a lock of hair she had jerked from the loose knot and her eyes were blazing. Sarethi sat beside her, once more taking her hand in his.

"Katryn," He began with such formality that she wondered if he would launch into one of his lectures, "It is better this way."

"Better for who?" She replied sharply, hardly realizing they had reverted seamlessly into Elvish, "You or the Council? We came for your help, sir, and-"

"Your Nord did not protest," Sarethi interrupted calmly. He studied her again, noting those slight lines that spoke more of stress and pain than age. She had always held a special place in his heart and he thought she had been the best thing for the wild and unpredictable Kent Laner. If things hadn't gone so awry, Kent and Katryn would have been a force to contend with in the Redoran House, "Why are you so adamant against his wish?"

Katryn wanted to pull loose from him, already disliking where this conversation was heading. Being here made her think of Kent and those times that had seemed simpler; of what he had meant to her and how things could have gone. And these memories weren't any better than those of Martin.

"He's not my Nord," She muttered finally, choosing the lesser of the two evils Sarethi presented.

"Ah, then you must excuse an old man's curiousity," He noted the softening of her expression as he said these words and was pleased this tactic had worked, "He looks at you rather possessively, you know."

Katryn was rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. She pulled her hand free and paced aimlessly around the room. She was well aware of what Sarethi was doing and she had to admit she didn't mind it much. Afterall, it was Deryl she was upset with.

"I know," She said and picked up a paper weight that had been painted to match the night sky, "He reminds me of Kent sometimes, though without those more redeeming qualities."

"Like I said, mere curiousity. I had heard rumors that you and the Emperor were... well, a match. And then seeing you here with the Nerevarine, I had to ask."

Katryn fumbled and the paper weight slipped from her hands. She reacted quickly and caught it again, her fingers pushed so hard against the surface they were practically white. Her eyes sought out Sarethi's and she was more than a little alarmed.

"Heard rumors?" She repeated faintly, her heart sinking just imagining the look on Deryl's face if he heard these as well, "Here?"

Sarethi was studying her again. Her cheeks were flushed pale blue and her normally fiery eyes were cloudy and upset. The last time he had seen her like this was when Kent... but now wasn't the time for that.

"So they weren't rumors?"

"Athyn, please," She implored, setting the paper weight down and returning to the couch, "Please, don't tell Deryl. Yes, Martin and I were a match. I still love him, but Deryl... I've been keeping this from him for my own reasons, and-"

"Katryn, calm down. I won't say a word," His hand found hers again, "You still love him? Even after all this time?"

The Elf stared down at where Sarethi's fingers were looping around hers and stayed silent for a moment. She realized quite suddenly that that was the first time in years she had said those words aloud and she was shocked at the peace that flooded through her. She felt... right, completely at ease; something that had been missing for the past 16 years and she made a resolution. Martin had always been the one to see through her defenses and he had done so once more, knowing without a doubt she still loved him. And so she was going to dwell on that, draw her strength from it as she had found herself doing in the past; and when she returned to the City, she didn't think _if_ , she was going to make him hers again. Of course that meant taking the leap and possibly causing more pain, but she had to take the chance. Being enmeshed in his life seemed to be her curse and her mindset now was if he loved her and vice versa: why not try to make the most of it?

"Yes, very much."


	22. Chapter 22

Katryn settled into the chair beside Sarethi's, overlooking the large arena. Like Sarethi had thought, Bolvyn had excepted the challenge without hesitation and the Ald-ruhn arena had shuffled fights to include Deryl's that same evening. The promptness of it all made the other two wonder just what Sarethi had said in his note to Venim. Criers had released the news immediately and the stadium was packed with hundreds of people. Most were eager for good entertainment and even more were drawn by curiousity. Afterall this was a nobody challenging the Lord Bolvyn Venim, a respected man who had been head of Redoran Council for nearly half a century. The fact that Deryl was the Nerevarine and Varvur Sarethi was being held by Venim was conveniently left out of the criers' information.

The Elf was not given a chance to corner Deryl and with her revelation about Martin, she really didn't mind. Instead she was kicking herself mentally. Sarethi hadn't pushed the issue and merely looked at her with that same understanding her father did when she told him she needed fresh air. She even risked the sandstorm, taking several laps around the Under-Skar just so she could think. The rational part of her brain called her all sorts of choice names, demanding to know what she was going to do if and when presented with another situation like the first. All the while that other side of her, that side that opened her eyes wide when Martin tried to kiss her and every time they touched, was doing its damnedest to come out ahead. And winning, for once. Katryn had been fighting it for so long; an uphill battle she had always been destined to lose and it was such an enormous relief to give in. Returning to that women she'd allowed herself to be with her priest gave her a strength she thought she'd lost forever.

When she finally went back to Sarethi's manor and saw how relieved and pleased Deryl was to see her, she could have gone to his side and taken his hand again and explained everything, she was that happy. She kept herself in check though and her sarcastic comments to a minimum as they prepared for the upcoming fight. Now that it was moments away, she felt her trepidation growing. She didn't doubt Deryl's abilities, he was a good fighter but Venim had experience on his side and that's what worried her. Also, the Nord hadn't the slightest ounce of training in magic and as much as she wanted to teach him even a basic healing spell, she just didn't have the time. It had taken her a few years to master her own and she'd heard stories of how horribly wrong it could go if one didn't know what one was doing. So instead Sarethi had equipped Deryl with some of his finest armor, given him a heavier mace and Daedric longblade and a few health poultices. This was met with some incredulity on the Nord's part and he drily questioned how he was supposed to use them in the midst of battle. Sarethi merely shrugged and replied cryptically that if he needed them, he would make time to use them.

Deryl was less than impressed with this and he had glanced at Katryn, half expecting her to come to his aid or at the very least join her fellow Elf. But she had remained quietly thoughtful, her mind clearly elsewhere. She had been even more private and close-lipped than usual and he wondered what it was she and Sarethi had talked about while Nelick was showing him the very impressive collection of armor. When he had returned to the room and found Sarethi alone, he had been alarmed at Katryn's absence and none of Sarethi's assurances would soothe him. It wasn't until she entered the room again, her hair down about her shoulders as she tried to knock loose the sand, burning eyes bright and alert and cheeks tinted rather purple as a result of being out in the weather, that he finally relaxed. She looked more beautiful than ever and mixed with the absolute relief at seeing her, he had to keep in himself in check so he wouldn't sweep her into his arms. The Elf helped with that, immediately asking him if there was anything she could do to help him get ready. He had told her automatically they could find a room and he would show her what he needed and she was his 'hero' again just as he became Lofolk. Rolling her eyes and waving one hand dismissively, she didn't dignify his comment with a continuation of the discussion.

A gong rang out suddenly, forcing Deryl to focus on the upcoming battle and Katryn to sit forward in her chair. On a platform centered opposite of the entry, a herald was stepping forward. He raised his arms and the mass of voices dulled to a soft hum. Everyone turned their attention to the man as he began to speak.

"My lords and ladies, welcome to a most unprecedented match the likes of which have not been seen since Tamar Half-Troll challenged Lord Cacey Melvix. Tonight you will be witness to another such legend. May I present the first opponent, fighting in the name of our own Lord Athyn Sarethi: Deryl Lofolk of Skyrim!" There was a smattering of polite applause as Deryl stepped into the arena and gave the audience a nod, "And now, of the Redoran House, leader of the Council for nearly 50 years, Lord Bolvyn Venim!!" The crowds went wild with cheers and the stomping of so many feet caused dust to drift down on their heads. The broad shouldered Dunmer appeared across from Deryl and raised both his arms in response to the mobs' adulation. He spared a withering glance in Sarethi's direction and swept a mocking bow. The herald allowed the cheers for a moment longer and then raised a hand for silence, "The rules are simple. You will fight to the death or one surrenders and leaves his fate in the arena master's hands. On the sound of the gong..." He motioned and another tone sounded, "Fight!!"

Venim was eyeing Deryl who had not moved other than to curl his body into a fighter's stance and tighten his fingers on the sword hilt. The Dunmer approached him carefully, looking for all the world like he was stalking prey, waiting for Deryl to either attack or run. Neither of which the Nord did. He remained unmoving until Venim struck with blinding speed, a shortblade in each hand that were nearly invisible as they arced through the air. Deryl spun away at the last minute, drawing a gasp from the crowd and slamming his shield into Venim's back as they passed one another. The Dunmer stumbled a little but reacted just as fast, planting one foot and striking again. Deryl bobbed and weaved, using the fact that he was just a shade smaller and quicker than the Elf to his advantage. Venim attacked every chance he got, proving his prowess as a warrior and the dance the two performed across the sand kept the audience rapt. They collectively gasped and cheered as the situation called for it and never once were they given a chance to be bored. It was clear that Venim was the better fighter but Deryl's age and the ambition to win this fight and come one step closer to immortality was more than enough for the Dunmer.

Katryn was hardly able to keep her seat and several times she had to force herself to clench her hands to keep from casting her shield when Deryl was a moment too late in defending himself. This was another such situation. Venim shoved one shortblade up in a vicious thrust and the Nord leapt back, barely keeping his balance and swinging his shield up, slamming the edge into Venim's helm and staggering the Dunmer. The mob let out groans of disappointment as Venim almost went to his knees and they looked at Deryl expectantly, waiting for him to finish off the Dunmer. But he surprised them, standing at a distance and watching as Venim recovered and came at him once more. The crowd murmured their approval. No one was ready for a quick end to this fight and Deryl's show of mercy was not lost on Venim's fans. The Dunmer was on the move again, shoving Deryl back towards the wall of the arena, swinging the shortblades so that he had no choice but to dance out of the way and go primarily on the defensive. Deryl was wearing down much as Venim was and they were both eager for the fight to finish. The Nord was too slow just once and Venim took advantage. The shortblade found the break in the armor at his elbow and blood poured thickly down his arm. Deryl reacted and went back to dodging away from the attacks and he suddenly weaved forward and to the right and slammed the mace into Venim's back. The Dunmer's legs buckled as he made a violent swipe at Deryl's knees. The Nord stepped back and a moment later the shield once more knocked into Venim's chest, sending the Dunmer sprawling on his back in the sand and staring in surprised shock at his challenger. He didn't wait to catch his breath.

"I call!" He cried rather faintly and Deryl hesitated. The Dunmer repeated a little louder, his accent thick with fear and exhaustion, "I call! You are the victor!"

Deryl didn't move from his stance over him and he poised with the mace raised, looking up at the arena master in his box just to their left. His muscles were trembling with the effort of the fight and his heart was racing. There were gashes and bruises everywhere, he was sure but at the moment the adrenaline pumping through him kept him upright. The arena master got to his feet and didn't even have to signal for silence. The crowds could've been forgotten, they were so quiet, waiting with bated breath for what would come next. The Dunmer arena master came to the end of his box and looked down on the two fighters. He glanced from the drawn expression on Deryl's face to the frightened one on Venim's before speaking,

"I will leave the fate to the Nord. It is in your hands, Master Lofolk, whether you decide to let Lord Venim live."

The crowds shifted, murmuring uneasily. This was normally unheard of, only special cases had these kinds of endings and the people immediately began to wonder if the Nord was _someone_ , instead of just another challenger. Everyone's attention went to Deryl who had given a single nod and was looking back down at Venim. The Dunmer's terrified scarlet eyes were locked on his face, trying desperately to read his expression and Deryl felt his disgust for this man taking over. So he wouldn't act on that impulse, he stepped back a little and lowered the mace. The mob began buzzing again and he ignored them, speaking quietly to the Dunmer so no one would overhear,

"Get up, go home and send Varvur Sarethi back to his father. Write a damn good resignation letter to your Council and tell them your wish is for Athyn Sarethi to take your place," His voice was carefully measured and he saw with vindictive joy that the Dunmer was wincing at the implications of the words, of what effect it would have on his normally luxurious lifestyle, "Then, pack up your things and get the hell out of here but not before letting your Telvanni police know their payoffs are over."

He didn't wait for the Dunmer to respond. Giving the arena master a nod and turning away, he didn't grace Venim with another look. The herald was stepping forward, the arena master was also returning to his seat and the crowds were starting to cheer, this time for the unknown, when Venim acted. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye, his expression turning ugly with rage as he threw himself at Deryl's unprotected back, his shortblades glinting murderously in the light. The mob gasped but Katryn was the only one to find her voice in time. She shouted the Nord's name and watched in horror as Deryl spun, his shield coming up. Venim crashed into him, knocking them both into the sand and wrestling furiously before the Dunmer let out a harsh grunt and went stiff. Deryl was shoving him away and they could see that his longblade had slid up between the top of the breastplate and under the helm, right into the Dunmer's neck. He gave a gurgling breath, shuddered and then went entirely still. Deryl lay on the sand for a moment longer and the crowd was once more so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. With a groan, he was sitting up and then getting to his feet. The cheers erupted again and only Sarethi and Katryn seemed to realize that Deryl was not completely unscathed. Blood was still oozing from his elbow and one of Venim's shortblades had found a way in under the breastplate. Sarethi motioned with his hand and one of the guards behind him went immediately down to the arena. Deryl took a few unsteady steps towards the guard and felt something deeper than weariness grabbing him. The shield fell from his arm and as the guard approached him, he gave in to the unconsciousness that was beckoning and collapsed onto the sand.

* * *

Mia had hardly spoken a word since they passed Hal and his fellow guard two nights ago. Even passing through Vvardenfell and seeing sights that she had only read about couldn't entice anything from her. Remar couldn't have been happier while the princess caught Mart looking at her with a rather indecipherable expression now and then. He was worried, she knew that, and he had been more attentive but that didn't tell her much. Other than solidifying her first impression of him, which centered around the fact that he wanted her 'unblemished' for his master. Still she couldn't help but feel a little safer when the Bosmer was near, as though he wouldn't let any harm come to her... unless of course he was the one inflicting it.

They were making their way north towards Ald-ruhn and were still riding when they could, staying clear of the road and avoiding any and all confrontation with others. They would come to the outskirts of the city that next day and Mia's trepidation was even worse. Though growing with that was more than an inkling of doubt about Mart's claim of the Nerevar being the mastermind. As they continued down the road, she lifted her head, ignored the stab of pain that went through her and said with as much grandeur she could muster,

"The Nerevar isn't behind this. You were lying."

Remar's reaction was much the same as always. His back stiffened at the sound of her voice and his eyes snapped but as usual, Mart was much quicker.

"Does it matter, Princess?" He answered calmly, "One way or the other, you're still a prisoner."

"But why would you lie about something like that?" She persisted, "I mean, if the point of all of this is to... to kill me, then why beat around the bush about who hired you? I won't be able to tell anyone, obviously."

"I haven't confessed anything," The Bosmer was matter of fact and seemed completely nonplussed, "But it is a relief to know you are coming to terms with your fate."

Mia snorted and was well aware her jaw was jutting in stubborn determination. Her green eyes flickered angrily and she felt even worse as Remar chuckled with the same venomous humor she always received from him.

"You are evading and I still have more fight left in me than you think," She winced at the petulance of her threats and wished she could have instilled more of her father's unflappable authority in her tone.

"Whatever you say, Highness," Was the response and she could tell by the Bosmer's easy dismissal that he was returning to his usual reticence, "Just remember what happened last time and ask yourself if you want to be worse off."

They completed the rest of the journey in silence and arrived at the outskirts in the wee hours of the morning. Mart had decided after that close call with the Imperials they wouldn't stop for the night unless absolutely necessary. Remar hadn't liked the idea and Mia, knowing they wouldn't listen, just stayed quiet. Instead of entering the city, they ventured into the foothills, Mart taking over the lead as he was the one who knew where they were headed. The weather was gloomy and disheartened with the after-effects of a fierce sandstorm and Mia hardly thought it possible that her heart could sink even more. Finally, after hours of traipsing through the sandy dunes which seemed like days since the Elves only occasionally spoke, and then to one another and in their own language, the roofs of a large manor house came into view.

Obviously they were looked for. The gates in the impressive, unassailable wall were slightly ajar and a young Altmer was standing just inside. He bowed them through and looked at Mia curiously but didn't say a word. The princess studied him as well, not having seen many Altmer in her life before, other than Len Kerlan of course but he was considered family and so didn't count. Mart had slid from his horse and was at her side, reaching up to help her off. It had become a necessity since her back was so stiff with pain she had trouble doing anything other than sitting. She didn't mind his iron grip on her forearms so much anymore but she couldn't stop her fears from growing. Instead of dwelling on it, she nodded to the Altmer boy.

"He didn't greet you," She observed and was frowning. Her mind had always been quick to deflect from her most troublesome thoughts to something nonessential and it was given more than enough chances to do so now, "Wouldn't that have been the proper thing to do since you are working for his master?"

"It would if he could talk," Remar answered and as usual the amount of venom in his voice shook Mia.

Her green eyes went back to Mart and saw that his expression was stony and he wasn't looking at the Altmer or Remar. He gripped her arm even more firmly and walked towards the door of the manor as the gates clanged shut behind them.

"His master is not a kindhearted man and his methods for punishing runaways are usually unheard of in these days," He answered grimly, "If you want to keep on using that pretty voice of yours, Princess, and you like your tongue where it is, I would stay put and do whatever this man tells you."


	23. Chapter 23

"And you're certain of this? Absolutely certain? Because if this is a mistake... Len, we don't have time for any slips," Martin's gravelly voice was hoarse with emotion and tiredness.

Len was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the Emperor's desk as Martin paced restlessly around the room and Bhaer had melted into the shadows by the window long ago. Neither of the other men were paying much attention to him or Shiel which gave the Nord a chance to take in his surroundings and form his own opinions of what the next step should be. Not that he was ready to share just yet.

"Yes, I am," The Altmer's tone was unshakable and his pale green eyes were steady on the Emperor as the man looked about at him with desperate longing to believe him, "Deryl Lofolk knows nothing of this."

"It couldn't possibly that this... Bosmer wasn't a tool for the Nerevar? What if we make a move against your group and Mia... something happens to my daughter?" Martin had begun pacing again and didn't have the strength to look at Len, didn't want him to see the tumult of pain he could feel on his face.

"Sire, you must have faith," Len implored and sat forward a little, wincing with the effort, "These people were not pleased with the Nerevar being a Nord and they would never align themselves with someone they consider beneath them. If I might ask, what has been decided that is making it difficult for you to-"

"I have made the call to detain Deryl Lofolk if necessary," Martin interrupted and felt his heart twist even more. The thought that he might be too late to protect Katryn from whatever the gods had in store was debilitating. And that was not something he needed now, not when he was so focused on his daughter. He wasn't going to sacrifice both of them. He couldn't. His Elf had been willing to risk her life for him and if he was the death of her... "I must know the truth."

Bhaer was watching the Emperor closely and he wondered what the man was holding back. His worry about his daughter was foremost, of course, but there was something deeper. He was too worried about this Nerevar for there not to be. One glance at Len told the Nord that he was in the dark about this and Bhaer was stepping into the halo of light from the lamp before he could think twice.

"Can I interrupt?" He asked softly and had to smile slightly as Martin jerked around to look at him as though he had forgotten about him. The Emperor inclined his head and gave a little wave with one hand, "I know that I have no place in this... fiasco, but Kerlan here was always adamant on the point that it was Elves behind the kidnapping ploy, not Nords. This Nerevar business means little to me and I don't really care if he succeeds or not. But I am keen on keeping my life simple and peaceful, which I imagine will become even harder if war breaks out. If nothing else, Highness, I would give your man the benefit of the doubt and explain fully what you have going on here."

Len stiffened some at the short way Bhaer spoke to Martin but the Emperor seemed to take no offense. Instead he searched Bhaer's gaze rather frantically as though he was looking for any sign that the Nord might be hiding something and then gave a small nod.

"Alright, that's fair enough," Martin returned to his desk and picked up a letter opener that had delicate Elvish script running down the length of it. Pain radiating even more intensely through him, he almost wished he hadn't kept her gift. Katryn had laughingly presented it to him not long after his coronation, telling him that the script was a blessing for long life and fertility. She had joked then that it clearly made sense for a letter opener to bless someone with fertility because papercuts were such a threat against it. Her face flashed before his eyes and he felt the ache in his arms, that desire for her so deep it was a physical pain and it took a monumental effort to continue, "I have more at stake in this Nerevar than you know."

They listened raptly as he told them of the meeting with Katryn and her subsequent trek to Morrowind to track down the threat herself and this did not help his guilt. When he finished, the room became quiet and Bhaer was leaning on the back of the empty chair beside Len's. His brown eyes were fixed on Martin again and he was sure for the second time that he read more into the story than Len had. The Emperor loved this woman and it was that added worry for her that made him so intent on finding out the Nerevar's movements.

"So, now we wait?" He questioned when it was clear the Emperor was done, "Is that the plan, Highness? You're going to wait to hear from your Elf or soldiers on whether or not this Lofolk is to be trusted? What happens if you had been wrong all this time?"

"Bhaer," Len said in a warning tone as a muscle in Martin's cheek clenched briefly, "Stop."

The Nord didn't seem to hear.

"What happens if Lofolk spooks and kills the Elf and then the Princess is taken care of as well? What happens if these cultists succeed and Morrowind suffers a war that she had nothing to do with? What-"

"Enough!" Martin shouted and his blue eyes were flashing so brilliantly they were practically on fire, "Don't you think I have thought of this? Do you think I'm an idiot? A brainless mass that has nothing better to do than send out soldiers left and right and pray the fighting starts? I've done it this way because – because I... I love Katryn and I will not lose both of them."

* * *

Deryl was swimming through the murky darkness back to consciousness slowly and the sharp, burning pain in his side was helping to hasten it. His eyes blinked open and he sucked in a quick breath as he realized why he was hurting so much. Someone was altering the bandage there, trying to make it wrap a little tighter and he groped with one hand until he encircled a wrist. An awfully slender wrist with soft skin that felt familiar and after a sharp intake of breath, Katryn's voice was saying shortly,

"You are maniacal."

The Nord couldn't help but let out a breathless chuckle which ended in a hiss of pain. He didn't let go of her as he sank back onto the comfortable bed and waited to catch his breath.

"You've... already used... 'M'... Remember?"

The Elf tugged loose and went back to tending to his wounds which stubbornly continued to bleed. She had already changed the dressing at least half a dozen times and the palor of Deryl's skin was not encouraging. Her strength was sapped from her as a result of keeping him alive through magic the times he almost slipped from her and her mood was swiftly following.

"It doesn't matter," Even she could hear how thick her accent was and she could hardly keep her hands from shaking as she went to work once more, "That was-"

"You're welcome," He interrupted, a little stronger now. His eyes, grey in the poor light and hazy with pain, were going between her hands and her face and he added, "And... shaking."

Katryn drew in what was supposed to be a calming breath and released it slowly as she cleaned the blood from his stitched side. Venim's blade had done its work well, sliding between the breaks in his armor to cut through flesh and muscle before angling down to butt against the upper portion of Deryl's hip bone. It was an ugly wound, one that would take time and lots of healing draughts to get it on its way to recovery. By sheer chance and a good amount of luck, the blade had missed vital organs and Deryl's biggest concern was the blood loss. It surprised Katryn how deep her fear of losing him was and she told herself that it was merely because of what it would mean to her homeland, Mia, and... Martin.

"It is..." She began furiously, hating that he noticed her trembling. Tying the bandage more harshly than she intended, she added, "You were being so damn... nonsensical. There's your 'N'."

"But... I won," He replied with a pleased smile that was morphed into a grimace of pain, "That bastard got... what was... coming to him."

She sat back and studied him, wishing she wasn't so exhausted. Those well-thought out arguments she came up with while he was still unconscious were flying away from her now and she knew her own tiredness was going to make her even more honest than usual.

"Yes, but at what price, Deryl?" She asked quietly, "You – I... can't lose you. Not now, not when you are making such strides and helping me with – with my own tasks."

The Nord gave her a quick, calculating look that was more piercing than it should have been considering his dilemma. There was only one oil lamp burning in the room and it cast her face in shadows, making her appear much older than she was and he could see the pale blue flush in her face, her eyes weren't their usual flaming selves and her expression told him she wasn't in any mood to be trifled with. But her words threw him and the implication they gave that she really, truly did need him was... interesting. He reached for her wrist again and instinctively held her captive when he felt her tense. She was already perched next to his bed and as much as he wanted to, he knew he wasn't nearly strong enough to pull her onto the matress with him.

"You've kept me... alive so far and... even if I begged to be... let go, you wouldn't stand... for it. So rest easy, hero... I'm not going... anywhere," He noted the very instant she stopped trying to pull free and he wondered how much of it was his words and how much was the fact that she looked as exhausted as he felt, "All of this would make... a hell of a lot more... sense if you just-"

"No, Lofolk," She interrupted and it was devoid of her usual snark. Rubbing her face and pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand, she added, "Not even after all this. I am not that easy."

He let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the feel of her pulse under his fingertips and how smooth her skin was. It let his mind wander rather wonderfully and the only thing he really wanted to know was if the rest of her body was this soft and warm.

"Like that's news to me," He replied, still breathless, though this time it wasn't solely because he had just gone through a life or death fight. Knowing he was going to have to distract himself from Katryn's nearness and the fact that she wasn't pulling away, he fished for another topic, (because letting go of her and allowing himself to drift back asleep was clearly out of the question), "Tell me... about him. Who's Kent?"

Katryn searched Deryl's face briefly. She knew this had been coming and she allowed a small, tired smile. This was one topic, although not particularly pleasant, she didn't mind discussing with him. His fingers were still grasping her wrist firmly enough to let her know he wouldn't be releasing her anytime soon and to her surprise that was something else that didn't bother her too much. Kent's mischievous grin flashed in her mind and she drew in a breath before started to explain.

"Kent Laner was the first boy I ever loved," She said softly and hardly paid attention to Deryl's sudden intense eyes and the tightening of his hold, "We met through Varvur, who was a dear friend of my brother Enis. We courted or... were together for nearly 7 years. Kent had always been interested in politics and planned on following after Athyn when he was of age. He had already made several contacts and footholds in the Redoran House through both his father and Athyn and was the perfect fit for the Council. Of course, since I was with him at the time, the question everyone wanted the answer to was if I would be standing beside him as his wife. We discussed it at length and decided it would have been for the best. Afterall, he loved me and I loved him and if nothing else we were happy with that. If everything had gone well, Kent had planned for us to be married within half a year from that time."

"If everything... had gone well?" Deryl repeated, enthralled by her voice and shocked she actually agreed to tell him this.

The Elf was nodding her head and glancing away, studying one of the tapestries with sudden, unwavering interest. She was aware she had clenched her fists and tried to force herself to relax but the rest of this story wouldn't lend itself to that.

"Although we had discussed it, Kent never told me he had already asked my father for my hand and surprised me one evening by asking me to marry him as soon as the arrangements could be made. Just like that, we were betrothed and we went to his parents in person to tell them the news. At the time, Arlo and his wife had a distant cousin living with them. He had been... down on his luck, I believe is the way they described him, and they were helping him through the worst of it. Either way, he was a man entirely without character and neither one of us liked him," Katryn hesitated for the first time since she started speaking and when she continued, her voice was getting a little thick with emotion, "Kent and I had planned on staying with his parents for a few days and the morning after we arrived, I found myself alone in the manor with the cousin. He came to me while I was in the library and started up a conversation. I didn't think much of it because there were servants in the house and I didn't believe he would be fool enough to try anything... I was wrong. He asked... he wanted... sex," The Elf blushed like this was a brand new chapter of life to her and Deryl's breath caught in his throat. She was gorgeous and the desire for her was overcoming his physical pain, "And I refused, so... he grabbed me and we started fighting. Kent came home in the midst of everything and attacked his cousin. He had landed maybe two or three punches when the cousin pulled out his knife and ran it through Kent's chest. It was over then. Four servants came into the library and wrestled the knife away, dragging the cousin out of the room. Kent was still alive and... he lived long enough to tell his parents good bye, that he loved me and then... he was gone."

"And the cousin?"

Katryn lifted her head almost proudly, her red-orange eyes glinting dangerously. The pain was clear in her face and Deryl almost wished he hadn't pried where he didn't belong.

"Dead. The Telvanni executed him that very next day and though the Laner's got their vengeance, things have never been the same. Arlo and his wife separated. The Lady went back to her family and Arlo married a very young Bosmer girl that he has remained with to this day, as far as I know. I haven't had much to do with them since they believe some of the blame rests at my feet and I will not allow myself to be made their martyr. So that is who Kent Laner was."

It took Deryl a moment to answer. His eyes were fixed on Katryn in wonder and he wondered why there wasn't more venom in her voice.

"Blamed you?" He repeated.

"The Lady still does, according to my knowledge. But Arlo sent me a very kind letter about two years after the... incident, telling me that he knew it wasn't my fault. And he also wanted me to know that since his son had loved me enough to protect me, he could love me enough to admit his faults and say that he was honored to have considered me his daughter. At least for a brief time. As time wore on, I was able to see why they blamed me, a little. Afterall, their son died trying to protect my... virtue. Though that didn't lessen the anger any or make their actions right."

Deryl's eyes sparked and Katryn could tell he was thinking something inappropriate even before his mouth opened.

"A virtue he fully... intended on taking himself."

He had said it mostly to embarras her and was surprised when she merely shrugged her shoulders and gave him another of those self-deprecating smiles. He found himself studying her intently. The glow of her bright eyes was even more alluring than usual and he wondered just how far he'd be willing to go for this girl. She had him utterly captivated, but that was no surprise: beautiful women always captivated him, getting him into trouble more quickly than anything else in his life. By the gods! He was forced to Morrowind because of a beautiful woman. Now he was toying with the idea of remaining because of Katryn's burning eyes, soft skin, lethal and somehow tantalizing moves in combat and of course her absolutely poisonous wit. The fact that she was still in love with another man was trivial. It hadn't stopped him before and sure as hell wasn't going to now.

"You know, in Skyrim... when a warrior is successful, he is... rewarded with a gorgeous woman... for the night," The Nord's fingers were still grasping her tightly and though he wanted it, there was no leap of the pulse or another blush. Instead she was arching a brow coolly and not even giving him the satisfaction of a struggle to get free, "You worked your magic... I feel up to-"

"Not even if you were whole, Lofolk," She interrupted and heard her sarcasm return, "It is no use deluding yourself with thoughts that because I've used my store of strength to preserve yours, I am confessing my undying love and devotion to you."

"I didn't say anything... of love," He winced and ground his teeth together so harshly she could hear it. His eyes came open again and he gave her another piercing look, making her feel practically naked, "So what happens now, Katryn?... Something is going to have to... give here and though you seem... unbending, I don't like to hear 'no.'"

She arched her brows again, surprised he was so forthright with her. He shocked her so often now and she didn't like being caught unawares. Neither one of them should be having this conversation at this precise moment because Deryl's still strong flowing adrenaline and her own exhaustion were lowering their defenses. He would pull her down beside him if and when he could while she would blurt... everything to protect herself from him. It just wasn't safe.

"Why does anything have to happen? Or have to give?" She returned and refused to be baited, "We have lasted this far; do you really think we can't continue?"

He let out a frustrated sigh and tried to shift his weight a little to ease some of the pain. Instantly he realized his mistake as his side fairly exploded and he couldn't repress the groan and sharp Nordic curse. Katryn was leaning forward, prying herself from his grip before he could bruise her with the force of his sudden squeeze and examining her bandages. Satisfied that they would hold, she stood from her stool, stretching her aching back and grabbing one of the health potions Sarethi had left them. Turning around again and finding herself under his scrutinizing gaze, she uncorked the bottle and handed it over. Her burning eyes were carefully expressionless as she watched him take the potion without a word. She remained standing as he settled back in his pillows and heaved another sigh, closing his eyes. If he was aware the mixture of herbs would put him to sleep within moments, he didn't protest. Instead he mustered his last remaining, conscious, thoughts and answered her question,

"You may be able... but no, hero, I really think... I can't continue... like this."


	24. Chapter 24

"You've come to kill the spiders, yes?" The skinny little Dunmer said, her round, owl-like eyes blinking up at Deryl, "You'd need the Hortator for that. Or at least you could keep the spiders in them. We used to when I was a young girl. Been some time though."

Deryl was on the verge of rolling his eyes, proof that he had been spending too much time with Katryn. His wound was aching, increasing to that steady burn it would revert to as a way to tell him he had been up for far too long. It was making him confrontational and he could feel his frustration growing. But Katryn had told him to be patient with Mistress Therana if he wanted to get any further. So what if the old bat was going crazy, she still held the power to tell him yes or no on his Hortator title. Then again, Katryn wasn't with him now, he could be just as rude as he liked and not receive comeuppance from her, though his Hortator claim might suffer. Deciding it wasn't worth it and wishing the Elf was with him to deal with this nut, he tried for empathy and instead found himself sounding incredibly condescending.

"Spiders, my lady? Tell me where they are and I'll take care of them."

Luckily Therana was already talking over him and she continued babbling as though he didn't say a thing.

"Spider eggs, now, yes. It is possible to keep them fresh, you know. Oh yes, all you do is sprinkle them with Netch blood and store them in the Hortator. It was Hortator, right? Or did you say hormander? Not that it means anything, they do the same thing. You listening, boy, or are you just pretending?"

Deryl shook himself, cursing Katryn roundly in his head and smiled charmingly at the old Dunmer.

"Of course, Lady," He replied, "You were talking about spider eggs. How you keep them fresh using Netch blood. But, Mistress Therana, I need to know if I have your support in my claim for the Telvanni Hortator?"

Therana's large red eyes blinked and for a moment there was an expression of calm lucidity in her face as she cocked her head and studied him closely. He found that even more unnerving than her incessant mutterings and his fingers were itching towards the knife blades in his belt. She stepped forward, laying one hand on his arm and looking up at him searchingly.

"You need rest, boy," She told him gently, her voice calm and reasonable. Her free hand came up to touch his temple with the barest brush of her fingers, "Nothing comes easy when your mind is as cluttered as this one. And if that girl doesn't return your attentions, drop it. The pain then would be great, yes, but her pain is the greater. She is wise to keep you out, especially with a heart so shattered as hers."

It was Deryl's turn to blink and a small dart of fear went through him. His initial response was to step back but his surprise had rooted him to the floor and all he could do was stare for a moment. Therana's hand fell away from his temple and her expression became expectant.

"Um... I'm sorry, Lady, I-"

"The spiders are gone now, yes? That's what you've come to tell me?" Whatever spell she had been caught in was broken by his voice and she was turning to her desk, moving in a rather jerking manner that made him wonder how healthy she really was, "I have the papers for the Hortator of course. I am happy to return the help. You take care of yourself, boy, and watch the spider eggs. Fresh Netch, remember."

The Nord nodded his head, searching her open, slightly confused face and wondered how the hell she had seen Katryn by simply touching him. He left her chambers, sipped at one of several levitation potions he had stored in his pack and stepped from the short hallway into the open air of the tunnel. The Telvanni wizards had isolated themselves at the top of their towers for generations, according to Katryn who seemed to give him a miniature history lesson every time they changed towns. Levitation was becoming second nature to him now and he let his thoughts wander as he slowly floated back to the solid ground. He wasn't one given to 'flights of fancy', as his grandmother called them, but it would have been a damn good guess if that was all Therana was doing. Katryn's information hadn't been wrong, that was sure. The old lady was as crazy as they came, but _that_... that was something beyond insanity. He had heard somewhere that lunatics tended to be a little prophetic and now that he had seen something like it, he was inclined to believe them.

He left Therana's tower and stepped out onto Tel Mora's little main street. The weather was more coastal here: mild wind and heavy clouds, the air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the waves lapped constantly in the bay, their pattern soothing. He started down the packed mud towards the market district and kept his eyes peeled for Katryn. They had idled in Ald-ruhn as long as possible, allowing Deryl's body to heal. Which was helped along with both Katryn and Sarethi's personal healer's aid. House Hlaalu had been next and the Erabenimsun camp followed that. Neither of which had been much worth the effort. Hlaalu's council leader, Crassius Curio, was a purely mercenary man and had wanted a small fortune to change everyone's mind. Luckily, Katryn's purse was heavy with gold from the Imperial City and she had coated Curio's palms with enough of it that he was ready to do anything they asked. The Erabenimsun had been easy as well. The Urshilaku had kept their promise, talking with each tribe and their relationship was a long, close one with the Erabenimsun. The people had taken it upon themselves to get rid of their opposition and the new Ashkhan had proclaimed Deryl Nerevarine within moments of the two of them walking into the camp.

It hadn't been quite so simple with the Zainab or the Telvanni. The Ashkhan of the Zainab had asked first and foremost for help with finding him a high-born Telvanni wife and Deryl thought he was joking. They hadn't parted on good terms and Katryn was still inclined to chuckle when she thought of that episode. She had rolled with this and agreed with the wise woman instantly when the Dunmer recommended picking up a servant girl in Tel Mora and simply dressing her up. Deryl's protests went unheard and Katryn told him with a grin that Kaushad was a man who wanted a woman. He wasn't going to think twice about her social status so long as she had a pretty face. Typical male.

Deryl felt his mouth curl up into a genuine grin and his eyes locked on the object of his thoughts as she emerged from a clothier's shop with the curvaceous servant in tow. She was dropping back to walk next to the girl and speaking to her. The younger Dunmer was listening raptly and Deryl suddenly wanted to be a part of this. Katryn must have felt his gaze. Her flaming eyes met his briefly and she was motioning for the girl, Falura, he remembered, to follow. He couldn't help but look at her. She _was_ pretty and there was something in the sleek, high way she held her head that could have been interpreted as noble. She had long copper colored hair that had been caught in a net at the nape of her neck and the clothes she had on did little to hide the fact that she was all soft curves and shapely limbs. Katryn chose well and even as he thought that, he was shifting his attention back to her. She was stepping lightly next to him, sending him an amused, knowing smile and saying with effected sweetness,

"She is not _your_ bride, Deryl. Remember that."

Falura clearly didn't understand them and stood patiently to the side, waiting for Katryn to give her further instructions. The Nord glanced at her and then met the burning eyes of his hero once more.

"How could I when its you I-"

"Were you successful?" She interrupted smoothly as she slid her pack from her shoulder and crouched with it between her knees so she could tuck Falura's newly purchased clothes away.

Deryl smirked at her deflection. He had persisted even worse than usual after their confrontation at Sarethi's and he knew it was wearing at her. Maybe it wasn't wearing in the right direction for him, but at least it was something. He was well aware that there had already been several occasions where she had almost told him who it was she was still in love with, the reason for keeping him so firmly at arms' length and he pushed even more relentlessly.

"Yes," He answered, playing along with her this time, "And you were underestimating her. That Therana is the craziest old nut I've ever met and that's saying something."

"I am sure it is," The Elf was straightening and asking Falura a question in Elvish to which the girl responded an affirmative, "She's ready and so am I if you are. Believe it or not, she's actually excited to meet her... husband. This is the first time she has been wanted for a wife, she said."

Deryl didn't need Katryn to continue that thought to understand what she meant. So the little innocent looking Falura wasn't innocent. He eyed her with more interest now and saw again just how pretty she was. Her features were rather angular with high cheekbones, eyes just large enough to be beguiling and a full, rather pouting mouth. Her eyes were a deep scarlet and she was the average height for a Dunmer woman, which put her several inches over Katryn. A Katryn that was now looking at him with more than a warning in her gaze. She turned and headed for the docks where the boat was waiting to take them back to Vos. Falura instantly followed and after a brief frown, Deryl was lengthening his strides to fall in beside Katryn.

"But not the first time she's just been wanted?" He asked in an undertone and wondered at the angry flush in the Elf's cheeks.

Katryn wished he would leave her alone. He already knew her views on the trading of slaves, Elvish slaves in particular, and it was stories like Falura's that were fuel for that fire. She had gone along with this to help Deryl and against her better judgment, hadn't blinked twice at the implications of what they were doing. The fact that Falura was happy she was going to a place where she was wanted for more than just a bedwarmer at night helped ease Katryn's doubts, but it certainly didn't banish them. She was contributing to something she had abhorred for so long and it was too easy blaming Deryl for her fall.

"Leave her alone, Lofolk," She replied and dropped four gold pieces into the boat operator's hand before settling down on one of the seats, "She is not some... toy for you to play with just because it's convenient for you."

Falura eased down across from her and was looking at the grey-blue water with trepidation while Deryl sank beside Katryn. He was hurting physically and wanted to battle with her more than anything else because it helped to distract him.

"And what about you?" He questioned and saw her jaw clench as her eyes flared. Vindictive joy went through him and with it, more than a taste of unease. This was too far, he knew that and still he couldn't help it, "Or are you still off limits? You told me I couldn't play your games but you obviously get to call the shots on mine. With that sort of circumstance, I think I should get to play with you whenever I want."

Her head snapped around to him and her eyes were flashing brilliantly. Yes, he had gone a little too far.

"And my rule stands," She snapped and her accent was thick with both the effects of speaking her native tongue with Falura and her anger at him, "If you want to play with me, Deryl, feel free. But be careful: I do not play fair."

Deryl was about to retort but Falura's quickly spoken question interrupted him and Katryn turned her attention to the girl to answer her. The rest of the short boat trip was taken up by the two women speaking in that musical Elvish and Deryl was surprised it didn't bother him as much as it usually would have. Instead he simply listened, letting the sound of it soothe him. They continued their travels in much the same way. Katryn ignored Deryl almost completely after wordlessly handing him a health potion when they stepped off the boat and left him thinking that she was right. This game was going to be much harder than he thought.

They reached the Zainab camp by nightfall and took Falura to wise woman Sonummu Zabamat's hut before they approached the Ashkhan. Sonummu looked the girl over with an appraising glance and then nodded to Katryn. Her Basic speech was okay but she preferred having the younger Elf serve as her interpreter so as not to confuse any meanings.

"She is perfect. The wedding ceremony will be held tomorrow and the girl will stay with me tonight. The bride and groom are not to see each other until the wedding vows are to be taken. After that she will be the Ashkhan's," Sonummu was pleased with Falura's flush of excitement and she continued as Katryn translated for Deryl, "But the Ashkhan did want to see you as soon as you returned. He is in his yurt, feel free to come and go as you please. And you have my thanks for everything you have done."

They were admitted to the Ashkhan's yurt immediately and Kaushad rose unhurriedly to his feet. His yellow-orange eyes went over them and he gave Deryl a rather scathing glance before fixing his attention on Katryn.

"You have returned," He said, his voice slow as he tried to get used to speaking Basic, "And you left my bride with the wise woman, yes? My thanks."

"But there is something else," Deryl wasn't asking and he ignored Katryn's quick warning glance.

The Ashkhan continued speaking with his fellow Elf as if the Nord wasn't present.

"I cannot just proclaim you Nerevar, you understand. I need proof of your abilities and there is one more thing I must ask you."

Katryn kept Deryl quiet with a mere wave of her hand and nodded for the Dunmer to continue.

"Of course," She agreed, "This is a bold claim and you must think of your tribe. What is it you need?"

Kaushad seemed suddenly hesitant but it lasted for only a moment and he was straightening and becoming the shrewd man they had met just the day before. His eyes swept over them once more and he was sizing them up, giving them the impression that he thought them nothing more than dunces.

"There is a tomb just west of Tel Vos where a vampire resides. The tomb is marked by two... trees growing on either side of the door. The vampire is quite old and was once a warrior of our tribe. I want him destroyed. Bring back proof he is dead and I will honor your claim."

Deryl snorted. His pain was raging back and he knew it had everything to do with the fact that he was more than irritated with the pompous Elf before him.

"Right," He replied with sarcasm that rivalled Katryn's, "That sounds-"

"Agreed," Katryn interrupted smoothly and gave the Ashkhan a bow, "Forgive us, my lord, if we do not stay tomorrow for your wedding. We will leave first thing in the morning and report to you as soon as we can. If there is nothing else, we'll turn in."

Kaushad waved his dismissal and Katryn shooed Deryl ahead of her. The Nord at least had the where-with-all to wait until they were clear of the Ashkhan's yurt before turning on her. His eyes were dark blue in the growing twilight and glittering with frustration.

"Kat, what the hell? You can't just-"

"Deryl, you are angry with me. That doesn't mean you can take out the frustration on anyone and when you act like an ass, do not be surprised when people treat you like one."


	25. Chapter 25

Nema heard the door slam and glanced up from the papers spread across her desk to see an irritated Yvex stalk into the room. She let out a small sigh and dropped her quill into the ink. Meeting his gaze and shifting a pile of records across the table so he could sit, she waited for him to start talking.

"Heidl has the girl and the City is still keeping the news quiet. Rumors are that Septim has sent out soldiers to detain the Nord if they get the chance and so far he has disappeared," Yvex dropped into silence and didn't seem to want to continue.

Pale eyes regarded him with little expression and Nema knew she wasn't going to like what her Dremora had to say next. Her auburn hair was slipping from the loose knot and she got to her feet and poured two cups of coffee before sitting again.

"And? That is not all, Yvex, and you know I-"

"I know," He interrupted quietly and his black eyes locked on hers, "Your decision has been made finally, I think. The Ashkhan of the Erabenimsun has proclaimed the Nord Nerevarine and...Ahaz is dead."

Nema's fingers tightened almost painfully around her mug. She didn't even blink. Instead she gave him a direct stare.

"How?"

"The Urshilaku are completely behind the Nord and they approached each tribe it seems. I don't have to tell you the relationship they have with the Erabenimsun and the wise woman was eager to come along-side the Urshilaku," Yvex could see the pain in Nema's expression and it was only because he had known her for so long, "The warriors rose up against Ulath-Pal and there were only a dozen that stood with him."

"Ulath-Pal is dead as well then?"

Yvex was sipping at his coffee and he nodded when he lowered the mug. If he was surprised at her toneless questions and almost easy manner, he didn't show it. Nema had been rather close-lipped about her past and he never pushed her. It wasn't his business anyway and he knew this was the way she preferred things. But this news had to sting. She and Ahaz had been friends since childhood and they both had been instrumental in Ulath-Pal's rise to power. It was a blow to her tribe when he gained so much influence and one of the achievements in her life she was very proud of.

"Rumor has it that it was Delith who swung the killing blow."

Nema snorted and stared down into her cup. She let a little wave of pain wash over her. Ahaz had been a very dear friend of hers, one of the few that understood her abhorrence for her family's traditional views and the passion she had for a sweeping change in the tribal ways. Ulath-Pal on the other hand was not nearly as close and though Nema would have preferred Ahaz in Ulath-Pal's place, her friend had argued for the other. And as for Delith...

"Well, it appears my dear little brother had finally made himself useful," She said scathingly and heard the pain roughen her voice, "And I suppose my father is stepping down to appoint him? Considering his daughter is banished and his eldest is long gone?"

Yvex shook his head and waited for a moment before he continued, wondering what her reaction was going to be to the next piece of news. It wasn't an encouraging thought.

"Your father stepped down, yes, but he is not appointing Delith. Besides your brother didn't want it. So Gulakhan Han-Ammu is the new Ashkhan."

Nema was shocked into silence for a moment and then she let out a bark of laughter. If there was something more nonsensical to her she had yet to hear it.

"Han-Ammu?" She repeated, still chuckling darkly, "You have to be joking. That spineless mass hasn't even had the nerve to bed a woman and my father made him Ashkhan. Gods, what a riot."

The Dremora didn't bother to hide his surprise at her mild reaction.

"And now?" He questioned and wondered if she would explode later.

"Now, I will go out and practice and we wait for Heidl's word," She got to her feet, pale eyes glittering, "Our job just became much simpler, Yvex."

* * *

"You really want to do this?" Katryn asked with some incredulity as they left Tel Vos and followed the track that, at the moment, was heading due west.

Deryl shrugged his broad shoulders and fell in beside her. They had started the day off fairly decently. Katryn wasn't nearly as venomous as usual and since Deryl had a serious request for her, he kept his more impure thoughts to himself. It had been dark still when they left the camp and the Nord was more than a little tired. He had had another nightmare and very little sleep and though he was well aware Katryn had an inkling of what had happened, he was glad she didn't push him.

"Yes, I'm sure I want to," He answered and tugged his heavy cloak closer. There was a damp chill that seemed to permeate everything and though it hadn't started raining yet, the heavy clouds they seemed to be walking towards promised it, "Afterall, I'm the Nerevarine and the mother tongue here is Elvish. I might be nice to know when someone is spreading lies about me."

"As you no doubt believe that is what I'm doing to you?" She replied with a light teasing quality to her voice.

He liked that. This was the old Katryn, the one he first met and he had missed her. Perhaps he was on the right track here. Asking her to help him learn Elvish seemed a necessary request at first and now it was transformed into what he could only call a brilliant idea.

"I figured either that or you and Falura were discussing how attractive I was," He grinned at her automatic eye roll and was pleased to see that her own amusement was growing, "Come on, Kat, I mean it. I want to learn and you are the only one present and qualified to teach me. Besides, we have time."

With a mock long-suffering sigh that made his grin widen and eyes, deep green, start dancing, Katryn complied. They continued their trek and the Elf was surprised at how quickly Deryl was picking up her language. She started with the Elvish alphabet, correcting his pronunciation when needed and then moved to numbers, going up to 20, before trying simple words and phrases. Soon, he was parroting everything back to her with traces of the Nordic accent but not much, which was quite impressive.

"Alright, now teach me something lewd," He said as his sunny disposition at once took over when he realized how good he was at this. They were climbing up a steep hill, following a faint trail which could only have been left by animals; they had long ago lost any human trail. The sounds of the ocean came faintly and it was clear they were getting close, "Something I can say to some pretty little maid when she helps me draw a bath. Or when a priestess-"

Katryn came up short suddenly and he could tell just by her face and the slight movement of her hand that she was casting her detection charm. He dropped his teasing and frowned at her when her eyes locked on his.

"There's someone following us," She told him in an undertone and it was then she could pick up the sounds of horses' hooves and the slight jingling of armor rubbing against armor.

Her eyes flickered around them and she motioned him to follow as they left the track and climbed up through a collection of boulders in the hillside. Katryn waved for him to stay put as she slipped even further up and found a decent vantage point. The sounds were growing louder and she cast the charm again; whoever it was was just yards down the path and she couldn't believe she had missed the racket they were making. She could make out the sounds of Deryl shifting below her and the slight rasp as he loosened his sword and then the horsemen rounded the hillside that was hiding them from view and she almost laughed. Turning and sliding back down beside the Nord, she shook her head.

"It's fine, Deryl," She told him and then stepped out from the boulders and directly into the path of the men coming up the path, "You clearly are not used to scouting Elves, my lord general."

Baurus' black eyes danced joyously and he slid from his horse, tossing the reins to the soldier beside him and closing the distance between them with four long strides. He was grinning as he caught her up in a warm embrace.

"It's about damn time," He greeted, stepping back to get a look at her, "We seemed to be just two steps behind you and I have to say your Ashkhan down there was not very happy when we interrupted his wedding."

Katryn's enjoyment at seeing Baurus was drifting towards worry and she felt Deryl come to stand close behind her. There couldn't be a good reason why the general of the Emperor's guard would seek her out personally.

"I can't imagine he would. He was very eager to marry the girl," She gave a wave with one hand at Deryl, "Baurus, Deryl Lofolk; Deryl, General Baurus Coll."

The men shook hands and Katryn was well aware of the distrust in both of them as they eyed one another. Baurus' was slightly stronger and she instantly wanted to know what was going on.

"It's good to see you're alright," Baurus told her, looking her over again.

"You did not expect to?" She replied lightly and then added, "The Emperor spared you just to make sure I was okay? What is the meaning of this, Baurus?"

The general's black eyes locked on hers and she was relieved he knew her so well. He could see in her steady, warning gaze that she was not willing to discuss Martin's overt protection of her and was striving towards the 'Emperor and aide' relationship while Deryl was present. He eyed the Nord once more and then fixed his attention on Katryn again. There was something more to this and he wasn't willing to push, knowing from experience she wouldn't comply.

"Kat, we need to talk," He answered simply and then glanced back at the 10 men he had with him, "I was told you were headed to the Nerano Ancestral Tomb. Do you mind having some company and letting me explain what's going on?"

Katryn felt her heart sink and knew instinctively she wasn't going to like this. It didn't matter how much Baurus fought to put it in a good light and all she could do now was pray to whomever was listening that it wasn't going to be as bad as he portrayed.

"We'd love it," She replied automatically and then wished she hadn't. Where Martin was concerned, she felt like an open book and that wasn't a good thing around Deryl, "It cannot be far now."

She was right. It wasn't far and Baurus didn't have time to even begin before they rounded this final hill and descended a path that lead directly to the overgrown door situated between two gnarled madrona. Katryn sent an apologetic look at the general as she and Deryl moved forward to clear the door. The Elf dispelled the magic and Deryl picked the lock as the soldiers stood by idly with their mounts.

"Are we going to have a whole troop crashing after us through the tomb?" Deryl questioned in an undertone and sent a dark look back at Baurus.

"Baurus means well," Katryn replied mildly and knew she would have to tread carefully here. The Nord's pain was making him more confrontational than usual and it suddenly felt like they were children again. It was as though Katryn was the brand new toy and Deryl wasn't willing to share, "And wouldn't you prefer having a few more soldiers to help?"

He snorted and then thought about it. His eyes roved over the armored men and he was sizing Baurus up again. The way the general had greeted Katryn made him think there was much more to that relationship than the Elf said and this new jealousy was not something he knew how to deal with. But she was right, they could be useful.

"Maybe two or three," He finally admitted, "The whole troop may not be the best idea."

She couldn't stop the little malicious grin that spread across her face and she made a pretense of removing her pack and looking through it for something immensely important.

"Of course not," She agreed and almost laughed when she caught his suspicious frown, "And this is your trial, Deryl, you can pick which men you want with us."

Deryl did so and, as much as he wanted, couldn't keep Baurus from their party. He didn't like these rather human feelings because it brought to life just how much Katryn was beginning to mean to him. But then the door of the tomb was open and none of that mattered anymore. The tunnel they entered was damp and cold and the air was rank with a mildewy smell. Deryl wordlessly extended a torch to Katryn who lit it with a wave of one hand. Baurus touched his own to Deryl's and the entrance of the cavern was suddenly flooded with light.

"Well," The general said and he was talking mostly to Deryl, "Let's go find this vampire and get back to business."

They headed down the tunnel and the darkness closed in on either side of them. It was just Katryn and Deryl, Baurus and one of the men he had with him. He was a tall, heavily built Imperial with dark black hair and light grey eyes. His calm presence was good and he didn't seem to need to talk just to fill this silence. Baurus, on the other hand, fidgeted and scuffed his boots as he walked beside Katryn and she knew he was dying to talk to her about what was going on, while Deryl had fallen into a glum silence which annoyed the Elf even more. She made sure there was nothing immediately ahead and then glanced sidelong at the general.

"How long have you been searching for us?" She questioned.

Baurus thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Almost a week now," He answered and didn't for a moment consider it unsafe to come around the corner in their path and approach a new door. Deryl picked this lock too when they discovered it was locked and Baurus continued a bit more carefully, "Things in the City are... not good. You were right about that outpost and the general there is now under guard in Cyrodiil."

"Not good?" Deryl repeated and was looking hard at Baurus, "What do you-"

"Shh!" Katryn threw one hand up in the air that smacked into Deryl's chest. Baurus and his man had stopped short the moment she did and were looking at her warily, "Quiet."

The Elf signalled for them to stay put and inched forward, out of the torchlight. Her step was so light they couldn't hear how far ahead she moved but there was the sudden sharp _twang_ of her bow and she was returning, her eyes glittering like flames. She motioned for them to follow and as soon as they were close enough, she spoke in a voice that was not much more than a whisper,

"I thought this might happen. My magic is becoming next to useless the further that we go."

"'Next to useless?'" The Imperial was curious and his expression was expectant.

"Yes, this has happened before," She answered calmly, her voice still very quiet, "There is something about these caverns that house vampires, some sort of damper that makes it difficult to cast the smallest spell. It is no trouble, really, we just won't be able to talk freely. I need to be able to hear whatever comes our way."

The men heeded her without question and didn't mind at all that she had stepped forward, taking the lead, despite telling Deryl this was his trial. They came up on the ash slave she had killed when they rounded the next corner and none of them spoke as they continued down the now curving tunnel. Katryn hated not being able to tell what was coming and at the very least wished she could make the men walk more quietly. Every scrape of their boots echoed in the cavern and made it sound like it was coming from both ahead and behind them.

About a half-mile down the tunnel, they encountered more of the ash monsters but between four fully armed warriors, they didn't stand a chance. Baurus' man was fearless and charged in amongst the creatures at Deryl's side without a word of protest while Katryn's deadly skills with her bow and Baurus' experience were proved indispensable. He downed the last one and then grinned at Katryn, looking much like the old Baurus, the man she had fought alongside and grown to love like a brother.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say we were back in Sancre Tor," He said, his voice light and happy, "I keep expecting-"

"Baurus, down!" She cried, throwing herself at him just as a shadow leaped from the dark expanse before them.


	26. Chapter 26

The chain of events passed very quickly. Baurus and Katryn stumbled back into the wall of the cavern and Katryn felt the general's longblade slide up between her arm and the leather armor covering her torso. Deryl and the Imperial jumped forward as their torch finally guttered out and did their best in the pitch dark to ward off whatever new evil this was. Katryn was disentangling herself from Baurus and ignoring the intensifying pain in her arm where his sword had left a trail. In the tumult of Deryl and the Imperial trying to beat the monster in the dark, the Imperial was shoved away and fell heavily to the ground with a hoarse grunt. Deryl held his own but Katryn's eyes were adjusted now and she could easily see how the creature was defeating him. She was knocking an arrow and pulling the string taught as the Nord was hurled against the wall and the monster was on him. Katryn let the arrow fly and the shadow of the monster dropped to the ground. She didn't bother lighting a torch before crossing to it and crouching. Like she had thought, it was a real vampire this time and its blazing eyes were focused on her but it was fading fast.

"Calvario," She said softly in her own tongue and the vampire's eyes flickered. It seemed to recognize the name and the cold, hard expression became one of longing. She drew a small knife from her belt and positioned the point over its heart, thrusting it down in one quick move to finish off what her arrow started, "Rest in peace."

The vampire faded away so quickly, it shocked even her and she swayed a little as the support the body had been giving her disappeared. She had known the instant it happened Baurus' sword had done some damage but she was hoping the blood loss wouldn't take such immediate hold over her. Her sharp ears picked up the light clink of something hitting the stone and dirt path and she ignored the first soft call of her name to reach down for what had dropped. Her fingers enclosed around a heavy ring and though it was too dark to make out any of the engravings very clearly, she could tell it was old and valuable.

"Kat?" It was Baurus this time and she could hear the beginning sounds of fear, "I don't know what the hell that was, but if it's gone then-"

"I'm fine, Baurus," She answered him and got to her feet slowly, not liking her body's reaction to that wound. The gauntlet on her left arm was loose and she examined it momentarily to find that the longsword had sliced up, cutting two of the straps and gouging a deep path in her skin, "Just... loosing blood. Tackling you, armed, was not a good idea."

"You'll have to remember that next time," He replied and there was still that light tone in his voice.

"'Next time?'" She repeated and saw him push away from the wall to try and find her, "By the stars, I don't want there to be a next time."

He chuckled and jerked a little when her fingers grasped his arm so he wouldn't knock into her. Her pain was put second as she remembered there were two more with them and she turned about, looking for Deryl.

"Deryl? Are you alright?" She asked and her eyes finally found him, still leaning on the wall.

The Nord's eyes were glittering and she could see he was breathing heavily. His longsword was hanging limply by his side but she couldn't see anywhere that he might be bleeding.

"I'll live," He replied and there was a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, "Though a second later and I wouldn't."

"I know," She bent and helped Baurus' man to his feet before approaching the Nord, "And I'm sorry about that. Things just happened so quickly and-"

"It's okay," He interrupted and his fingers found her hand when she reached for his arm, curling around her own and grasping for a split second before giving in and allowing her to lead him to the others, "We're all alive at least."

"At least," She repeated, not liking that touch. It was too tender to come from him, it meant he was beginning to _truly_ feel for her, beyond just wanting to sleep with her and that was frightening. She would have to watch it or give in to what she had been dreading and tell him about Martin, which would be... disastrous, "Give me a minute to collect some of the ashes left behind and we will get out of here."

Baurus was still standing with the Imperial who didn't seem to be any worse for wear. The general was frowning a little and his eyes were slowly, kind of, adjusting and he could see the darker shape of Katryn as she was crouching again and scooping some of the ashes into a small leather pouch.

"What about a little light, Kat?" He asked, "Not all of us are Elves, you know."

"You do not have to tell me," She muttered and finally gave in, wrapping her arm tightly to staunch some of the blood flow, "And your memory's getting worse. No magic, remember? At least not until we get a little further up."

She secured the little pouch and ring in her belt and then ushered the men up the path again, her ears pricked for any sound coming from ahead or behind them. But the way was clear and they reached the door to the outside safely. Katryn cast her healing charm as soon as she was able and the alarming rate at which the blood was soaking the bandage began ceasing.

The weather had gotten worse while they were below the ground and Baurus' men had scrounged for wood, lighting a small fire and were idling about, waiting for their general. Katryn moved to the flames instantly, settling herself on the ground and motioning for Deryl to sit beside her. This the Nord did with pleasure and didn't bother to hide it. She was busy with her pack, pulling out medicinal supplies and she hardly looked up as she spoke to Baurus,

"Tell me what's going on."

The general had long ago stopped wondering how she instinctively knew who was standing next to her and how close they were. He sat on her other side and watched as she started tending to Deryl's wounds while describing his trip to Khuul and Bevlian's arrest. The Elf was listening closely and she tipped Deryl's chin up to get a look at his neck where faint scratches were just visible. She figured that would happen and she was just picking up the little vial of potion that would banish all traces of the vampirism from his veins when Baurus added, very hesitantly,

"And the reason for seeking you out is because... the princess was taken and Bevlian was told that the Nerevarine was behind... everything."

The vial slipped from Katryn's fingers as she forgot what she was doing and she was looking at Baurus with wide, horrified eyes. Deryl immediately reached out to catch it but was ensnared in this news much like she was and didn't drink it just yet.

"What?" She said faintly.

"I'm sorry, Kat," Baurus replied, "I wish I could tell you better news. Like I said, we've been on the road for about a week. Martin sent us out the day after it happened because... he was concerned."

"Worried I'd killed her and moved on?" Deryl questioned with poison and the eyes that had become dark blue were glittering angrily.

"Deryl," Katryn implored, not looking away from Baurus. Her heart had settled well in the pit of her stomach and the only thing she was able to think of was Mia's pretty face, so like her father's, and Martin's agonized expression when he pleaded with her to help, "What has been planned, other than seeking us out?"

Baurus, never one to sit still when a particularly stressful dilema presented itself, pulled his sword free and was cleaning the blade. The pang at the sight of Katryn's blood mixed with the ash monsters' went a little deeper considering he was hurting her even further with this news, but he had to go on. His hurried, private conversations with Martin about what would happen with this situation if Katryn had been dead by the time the men caught up with Deryl had been tough. The ones concerning the effects of finding both travelers alive and well and the Elf's reaction were pure torture. Katryn was blaming herself already, that much was obvious, and no matter what Baurus might tell her, that wouldn't change. Martin had been adamant that she continue helping the Nord and told him expressly that Cyrodiil's soldiers would deal with the locating of Mia. If Deryl failed or worse, the enemy succeeded in publicly blaming him for a favored princess' death, the results would be devastating and it wasn't something anyone was willing to contemplate.

"There are dozens of men out tracking every recent horse and human trail from the City to Morrowind," He finally answered, feeling her growing irritation like the heat of a flame, "And the news has been suppressed, so far. The reason behind our frantic search for you was because of our number one fear. Not that you would turn out to be on the enemy's side, Deryl. But because... we were afraid there'd be some violent outcome. There was the worry of hired assassins and if we lost you... Well, let's face it, we would have been screwed."


	27. Chapter 27

"Why is it that you Elves come up with the weirdest names for your buildings?" Deryl questioned in an undertone as he and Katryn approached the Temple district.

"Whiterun, Hrothgar, and Roscrea do not exactly roll off the tongue either," She answered drily and the names sounded interesting with her accent.

He had to give her that and then focus on what they were doing. After Baurus' shocking news, they camped out at the tomb and talked long into the night, discussing their next moves. Katryn convinced the general to stay with his men when it was clear that Baurus wanted to join them. Her argument was that he was too easily recognizable and they couldn't have any of the enemy discovering that the Emperor's general was assisting the Nerevarine. It would put Mia at an unnecessarily high risk. So Baurus reluctantly continued with the men and they veered northeast to Vos where they could catch the silt strider to Ald-ruhn and try to pick up the trail from where Len had believed the cavern-meeting place to be. Katryn and Deryl trekked back to the Zainab where a blissfully happy Kaushad announced the Nord Nerevar and promised him aid should he need it. From there they made the two day trip back west to the Urshilaku and consulted with Nibani and Sul-Matuul. Both the Ashkhan and wise woman were convinced that the next step was to talk with the Archcanon Tholer Saryoni in Vivec. Nibani knew him to be a believer in the prophecies and told them he would be their best informant from now on. The Archcanon resided in Vivec's High Fane, part of the Temple district and that was why Deryl decided to mock the name.

"Nibani said that Saryoni's messenger would be in this area," Katryn said quietly, motioning for Deryl to wait when she heard an Ordinator coming their way. The guard walked by their sheltered spot in the shadows of the building, completely oblivious. Nibani had told them to enter the city by night and remain out of sight of the guards, considering they wouldn't be receptive to the idea of the Nerevarine wandering around their city. She had sent a message ahead of them to Saryoni and told them where to find the servant that would lead them safely into the High Fane, "Come on."

They darted forward, ducking into a small alcove and nearly collided with the Elf that was hidden there. The Dunmer backed up and eyed them with curiousity.

"Danso?" Katryn asked in Elvish, getting over her surprise fairly quickly, "Danso Indules?"

"Yes," He said, "And you must be the Archcanon's guests?"

"We are. Nibani Maesa said you could get us to him, avoiding the guards?"

The Elf remained silent and motioned for them to follow. They eased out of the alcove and hurried around the building, entering a narrow alley that dead-ended at a heavily reinforced door. Danso pulled a key from his cloak and waved them to enter before him. He locked the door again and threw back his hood, shaking the rain water from the wool. They were standing in a dim entryway of a room stacked neatly with sacks, barrels, and boxes.

"This is the Fane's pantry," Danso explained, moving forward and opening a second door. He glanced briefly at them while Katryn translated for Deryl and then continued, "The Archcanon doesn't approve of distractions in his home and so this is where we permit the delivery men. It has been quite useful."

"I can see that," Katryn agreed.

The hallways they were walking through were quiet and clean. The whole place was neat, tidy, with ancient tapestries hanging from the walls and small niches housing vases and idols. The doors gleamed in the faint light and Danso led them through a labyrinth of passages until he stopped before a particularly fine-made door. He knocked quietly and opened it when an answer was called. A slightly stooped Dunmer was standing from his desk, his orange and yellow eyes flickering over both travelers briefly before waving Danso away.

"So you have made it at last," His voice was dry and sounded more ancient than Gilvas' ever had. He spoke the Basic tongue with hardly an accent and the intelligence in his face was more than a little intimidating, "We have been watching you for some time, my son."

Deryl, not easily impressed, snorted and was swinging his damp cloak from his shoulders.

"That's a pleasant thought," He muttered sarcastically and moved to the roaring fire without waiting for an invitation.

Katryn rolled her eyes as she unfastened the clasp of her own cloak and gave Saryoni a slight bow. She could understand Deryl's attitude but she wished he was at least a little more subtle. As Archcanon, Saryoni held ultimate sway over the Ordinators which had rubbed on the Nord harshly. He had had several pointed comments about walking directly into the lions' den, going to the High Fane, and it had taken both Nibani and Katryn to ease his mind enough to at least try.

"My lord, I have a notice from Nibani Maesa," She said, pulling out the letter written and sealed by the wise woman and handing it over, "She was under the impression that you could assist us with the next step."

The Archcanon accepted the letter and waved Katryn into the room.

"Please, make yourself at home, child. Is there anything I can get you? Wine or ale? You look like you have been traveling all night."

Katryn moved to the flames, putting her back to the warmth and feeling her exhaustion threatening to take hold again. She had been sleeping poorly since Baurus' news and her thoughts were focused on Martin more than ever before. Her heart ached for him and she wished with all her might that she could be with him through this trial. But fate was heavy and unfair and she was miles away when he needed her most, so she had to make the most of her being in Morrowind.

"A glass of wine sounds wonderful, thank you," She answered as she felt his gaze.

Deryl asked for the ale and they sipped at their drinks while Saryoni read Nibani's letter. Katryn's empty stomach let the wine play with her head and she pulled a footrest over to the hearth before settling comfortably onto it. She ignored Deryl's questioning gaze and was looking about the room with assumed interest. The Elf knew he had partially guessed Martin might mean something more to her and it was rather a testament to how the wine was affecting her that she really didn't care tonight. As if on cue, the door opened and two servants entered with trays of food. They placed these on tables in front of Katryn and Deryl and left the room silently. Saryoni finished the letter and was crossing the room to them.

"Help yourselves, please," He said and began slowly pacing, his brows creased in thought, "Nibani is quite convinced of your claim, Deryl, and that ring on your finger is truly the Moon and Star. I trust the Urshilaku and I will help you."

Katryn withdrew into herself again and kept eating as Deryl and the Archcanon started to discuss their move. She was listening with only a partial ear when she heard something that made her completely forget what she was doing and almost laugh out loud.

"Meet Vivec?" She repeated and couldn't stop the grin that started curling her mouth, " _The_ Vivec? The god? May I ask how?"

"Certainly not with a lack of faith," Saryoni retorted, his former warmth for her growing cool, "Vivec grants audiences with those followers he deems worthy and with your attitude, daughter, you will not be graced with his presence."

Deryl was mockingly shaking his head at her but it was clear that he didn't believe this anymore than she did. Honestly, she was more concerned with the fact that she was taking on his role while he took on hers. She debated briefly how she wanted to respond to this and finally lifted her shoulders a little, taking another bite of the fresh fruit piled in the bowl.

"I am sorry, my lord," She answered and even she could hear how unconvincing she sounded, "My faith is not what yours is and you'll have to excuse a skeptic. But you're right, I should not have been disrespectful. Could you please explain how this works?"

Saryoni looked at her for a moment longer, clearly not wanting to let this go, but he relented and was sitting across from them. His yellow-orange eyes were flickering between them both and Katryn's assumed reticence was softening him again.

"We have means of summoning Vivec when we need him most and he will not deny the Nerevarine if and when he asks to speak. I accept your apology, Katryn, and I can understand your disbelief. It is only a... shadow of Vivec, you see, that we can summon. He grants us that much and we are blessed with it."

"I see," She said slowly and was frowning as she thought about that.

Deryl cut in when it was clear she wasn't ready to ask anything else.

"How long will this take?" He questioned, "Time is kind of important right now and the sooner the better."

Saryoni was on his feet again and walking to the bar where the ale and wine bottles were. He brought them to the tables and refilled their glasses. Sitting back and swirling his ale about the mug he held, he suddenly seemed more real to Katryn and Deryl and they found themselves relaxing for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"Not long," He answered and seemed as deep in thought as his fellow Elf, "I have to be present, of course, considering the circumstances, but I should only need one or two other Temple attendants. We may be lucky enough to get it done within two or three hours."

Katryn was tugged from wherever her head had wandered and was glancing up between them and meeting Saryoni's gaze.

"Avoiding the Ordinators, naturally. Unless you can grant us immunity?"

"You, yes of course. The guards would be loath to interfere with the Champion of Cyrodiil's business," He seemed to ignore her look of brief disgust, "But Deryl... The Ordinators... nevermind how much you want to believe they are under my control, they are mostly narrow-minded fools and they will do what they believe right."

"Which amounts to killing me," Deryl confirmed in a very dry voice and lifted his mug of ale slightly, "Cheers."

* * *

"My lord?"

Martin bolted upright and had to look around wildly before he remembered where he was. His arm was asleep and tingling from laying on it and the crick in his neck was going to give him hell later. The sleepless nights had finally caught up with him, apparently. The last thing he remembered was laying across his bed to lose himself in his thoughts.

"Yes, enter," He called, trying to straighten his clothes and with a wave of his hand, the oil lamps jumped to life.

The guard who stepped in paused a moment when the room was quite suddenly flooded with light and then he bowed to the Emperor.

"Sire, my apologies for disturbing you but you wanted to be notified the instant we received word from General Coll and-"

"Baurus?" Martin interrupted, instantly wide awake. He jumped to his feet and started for the door, "He's back already? Where is he?"

"No, sire, not the general," The guard cut in as soon as he was able, not wanting to interrupt the Emperor, "It's one of his men, one that accompanied him, I mean, and he needs to speak with you."

"Of course," Martin glanced down at his rumpled clothes and then decided he didn't care how he looked so long as he got word about either Mia or Katryn and he was repeating his question, "Where is he?"

The guard motioned him to follow and another fell in behind him as they made their way to Martin's library. There was a third man standing in the middle of the room and he dropped a deep bow as they entered. He was tall, broad shouldered with patient grey eyes and dark black hair. There was a gash along his jaw that was partially healed and though his name was escaping Martin, he knew this man was one of Baurus' most trusted and some of his trepidation eased.

"Highness," The soldier said and straightened, "I have news of the Lady Gwynyth and our Nerevar."

Martin was about ready to burst and he forced himself to be the gracious host, something from the 'Old Days' he had never been able to let go of. He called for ale and beer and invited the man, Vern, he suddenly remembered, to sit. Over their drinks Vern described the search for Katryn and the Nord and then the trek into the Nerano tomb in his deep, cultured voice that was proof of his noble upbringing. It was hard for Martin to keep emotion from his face as he realized fully just what it was that he had asked his Elf to do. Or rather, what he allowed his Elf to talk him into letting her doing.

"But she's – everyone, is okay? The plan has continued like we arranged?" He asked finally, when he couldn't help himself anymore.

"Indeed, sire, everything is as you wanted. Although, the Lady talked Bau – the general into staying with us while she and the Nerevar went back the Urshilaku tribe for further instruction."

"Vern, Baurus is a friend of mine," Martin told him with more amusement than he had felt for some time, "And I know he doesn't demand formality among his men. Don't think I will hold you to it. You must have left them in Ald-ruhn, then?"

Vern acknowledged this and said that Baurus and the men had been held up north of the city because one of the scouts had picked up a trail. He had wanted to stay and the general talked him out of that by convincing him he was the only one he could trust to get word to Martin.

"As long as we are being informal, sire, Baurus and the Lady are a match when it comes to spellwork with words. The general used her tactics and it's beyond me how the hell it works."

Martin was shocked to find himself smiling genuinely and his heart lifted. That was Katryn, _his_ Elf, no matter that Vern was talking about Baurus, and it was amazing how her magic worked on him even with miles separating them. For another of few times, he was feeling hopeful about the outcome here and if and when Katryn came back, he wasn't going to let her go so easily as last time.

"You and me both, Vern."


	28. Chapter 28

Katryn heaved her third sigh and let her body slump back against the wall of Vivec's Temple. It was nearing three in the morning and Saryoni and his attendants had been attempting to summon the god Vivec for the past two and a half hours. She had merely stood by and watched, unconvinced, and she knew that Deryl was immensely amused by all of this. He was leaning beside her and there was a little mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth, which she ignored. After the Nord's first rather snide comment about Vivec hiding from them and Saryoni's poisonous glare, they had remained silent and considering the amount of alcohol they had consumed, it was a wonder they weren't chittering nonsensically. Instead it made both Katryn and Deryl more prone to speak their minds and spout the very first thoughts they had. And none of this soothed Saryoni's raw nerves.

"Alright, we'll try one last time and if this doesn't work, we will have to try tomorrow," The Archcanon was speaking with his attendants and Deryl couldn't hold his tongue.

"And never mind the threat against the Princess of Cyrodiil and her father's wrath if we don't succeed at this."

Even Katryn had to chuckle at that, much to Deryl's surprise. Saryoni shrugged it off without so much as a glance at them, instead he was speaking softly to the attendants and starting everything over. Deryl returned his attention to Katryn. The Elf had settled to the floor and was tipping her head back on the wall behind her. Flaming eyes were studying their surroundings, an amused smile was still gracing her lips and Deryl felt his heart constrict a little with just how beautiful she was. He was sliding down to sit next to her before he quite realized it and wondered how much of this sudden awareness was thanks to the effects of the ale. Something told him that it wasn't much and he knew without a doubt he had long ago crossed that line into a sort of danger zone concerning his feelings for her.

"If this doesn't work, Kat, Coll will be right," He said in an undertone, remembering how Saryoni's fists had clenched like he wanted to lash out with his magic the last time Deryl had interrupted his concentration, "And we'll be screwed."

"I won't let that happen," Katryn's response was so immediate and confident that he could only look at her for a moment, "Failure is not an option for me, Deryl. I have to find a way to finish this no matter what."

He studied her for another beat. She had turned her gaze to his and the flush in her cheeks from the alcohol set off the determination in her eyes even more fiercely. Her hair was starting to slip from the messy bun she usually twisted it into and tendrils were falling forward into her face, making his fingers itch to brush them back. But he was still trying to gauge her feelings at the moment and even a twitch in that direction could mean severe pain.

"And that includes me being unable to go on due to my outright refusal, near-death injury, and/or death itself?" The Nord finally questioned and felt himself falling even more down this slippery slope when she grinned at him.

"What makes you think I'm going to give you an option?" She returned, "And even if I do have to go on without you, I'll find a way to do this."

Deryl couldn't help himself anymore. He reached out with one hand and brushed the lock of hair that was inching over her right eye. Tucking it behind her ear, he left his fingers there and gently rubbed his thumb against her cheek. The Elf suddenly looked much more dangerous than he ever imagined she could, but she didn't shove him away or retaliate with violence or even her poisonous sarcasm. Instead she was simply looking at him as though wordlessly asking him how far he was about to go here. And _he_ was the one who was screwed, because he really had no idea.

"That I don't doubt for a second," He said and heard the huskiness in his voice taking over, "But I'm questioning your motives. You're pretty close-lipped about this, Katryn, and I'm tired of being kept in the dark. Why does all of this mean so much to you?"

Katryn drew in a breath and reached up with one hand to pull his from her face. The tender caress was hitting a little too close to home and she couldn't help but gasp as he instinctively grasped her wrist. She didn't like this: every time Martin's name was mentioned her pulse started hammering and that would tell Deryl so much more than any words could. And with his fingers gripping exactly where he could feel that... she was going to have to tread carefully.

"The Emperor needed someone he could trust," She began and didn't drop her eyes from his. He was getting better and better at reading her and her ability to lie convincingly never worked on him, "I was... hesitant at first and then I realized why he wanted me. These were Dunmer, afterall, that the alleged threat had come from and the Emperor felt he needed someone who would understand them. I'm an ex-Blade, Deryl, belonging to those sworn to keep the royal family safe. Duty means everything to us."

"Even errand girls?" He asked and his pale green eyes were dancing with amusement, thinking he finally caught her.

Katryn let her smile grow and she looked beyond him for a moment. She lost herself in her thoughts and gave him the opportunity to stare at her again before she finally answered,

"Especially errand girls."

There was a sharp crack that made Katryn start and glance at Saryoni but Deryl seemed not to hear. His fingers had tightened even more around her wrist and his eyes were suddenly wide. The Elf tried to pry herself loose and get to her feet at the same time when it was clear the temple attendants had finally been successful. Deryl tugged her down again and across his face came a look of realization.

"It's him, isn't it? You're in love with Septim."

Katryn froze, wishing she could melt away when her heart started thudding heavily. Her eyes met his and she was shaking her head a little, lips parting to deny that, but Saryoni came to her rescue instead.

"Deryl," He called, his voice urgent, "It's time."

The Nord still didn't move from his spot next to Katryn and she pushed at him with her free hand. His gaze was incredulous and Saryoni had to call his name again before he finally went to the Dunmer's side. His shock over this revelation prevented him from truly appreciating what was before him and the wispy form of Vivec seemed to sense this.

"Deryl Lofolk," The deep voice reverberated in the cavernous chamber, bouncing off the marble walls and supports, "You have made great strides and the time has come for your final trial."

Katryn slowly got to her feet and took another calming breath before she approached carefully. She leaned against one of the pillars and folded her arms over her chest, wishing with all her might she hadn't let her guard down so drastically. There was no way she could avoid this now and it was the one and only thing she had fought to keep from Deryl. She thought that she should give him some credit, considering the fact he had proved himself capable of feeling and empathy, but the idea that he just wouldn't understand her attitude towards Martin wasn't something she could easily get over.

"That's why we're here," Deryl replied, trying to keep from gaping at Katryn again when he caught her movement out of the corner of his eye.

Saryoni and his attendants had gone to their knees and the other two ignored them completely while they studied this 'shadow' of Vivec. He sitting cross-legged, floating about two feet off the ground and his greenish skin was gleaming oddly in the torchlight. His ears were severely pointed, much longer than any Elf either of them had seen and his rather bulbous eyes were just a few shades darker than his skin. If he was standing, or real for that matter, he would have been quite tall but even just being a translucent form, he was still very impressive.

"'We?'" Vivec repeated and the eyes went around until they landed on Katryn, "Ah, yes, Cyrodiil's Champion. Peace to you, daughter, Morrowind is lucky to have you both."

Deryl felt his spine stiffen a little and he could practically hear Katryn's eyes roll. The god had spoken her title so condescendingly and every ounce of his body language was telling them he didn't want her present. The wine that had lowered her defenses was mudding her thought process again and Katryn was speaking before Deryl even opened his mouth.

"I am sorry, my lord, if my presence disturbs you. It wasn't my intention. Though I have to say that I did not expect a Morrowind god to object to a hero from his homeland."

Deryl's astonishment at the implications of Martin being the 'one' was put second as he grinned genuinely at her. This was his hero again and he preferred this side of her.

"A native of Morrowind perhaps, but a hero of Cyrodiil," Vivec responded calmly though his eyes flickered for a moment, "And that is not why I have been summoned. Morrowind is concerned with their own hero and he will not be able to move on without me."

"If you have a plan then tell me what I'm supposed to do," Deryl said and was still sore over the treatment of Katryn, "I can't stay in the city, not with the Ordinators on the lookout."

"Of course not. The plan is five-fold and while I can give you an outline, Archcanon Saryoni will provide you details that I have not time for. First I must tell you what all of this entails. You will travel to Ghostgate where the first step will be to raid the citadels. The second step is to annihilate the ash vampire kin of Dagoth Ur and gather the artifacts they carry. The remaining steps are simply details into the first two and as I have said, the Archcanon will guide you."

Deryl hadn't looked away from Vivec the entire time he spoke and there was a frown creasing his brows. He glanced quickly at Katryn who gave him a slight shrug and then looked back at the god.

"So why did we need to summon you?"

Saryoni made a warning sound in his throat while Vivec merely smiled. For all his annoyance with Katryn, he treated the Nord like he was a simple, wayward child.

"To handle these artifacts, you will need Wraithguard," He lifted his right arm as he spoke and indicated the heavy gauntlet he was wearing, "I am the only being who can bestow this gift. But I warn you, only the Nerevarine can wield it. Should any other try, it will mean instant death."

"Good to know," Katryn muttered under her breath, ignoring Vivec's venomous glance.

"There is more," The god said and was fixed on Deryl again, "You must make a vow. The Nerevarine was meant to unite all of Morrowind and drive out those wishing to bring her harm. Wraithguard is not given without the Chosen's solemn promise to keep watch for as long as the gods grant him life."

For the first time, Deryl hesitated. His eyes fell from Vivec's and he was looking down at the marble floor. All of this suddenly hit home and he realized how final it was. His mind was rewinding the years and he saw himself as a little boy, being raised by his doting, biased, grandparents and not having a care in the world other than what he was going to do the next day. And now he was face to face with a god and being offered immortality, even if it was in name only. This was something he'd wanted and only dreamt about but when it came down to it, he wasn't sure if it was going to be all he envisioned and he understood now how Katryn felt.

"Deryl?" Her soft voice was concerned and he was glancing at her, startled. She smiled gently and knew what he was thinking, "It will be alright."

And he believed her. Before he knew it, he was repeating Vivec's words and meaning them; accepting Wraithguard and even giving the god a bow before he blinked out and left them alone in the chamber again.

Katryn and Deryl were talked into staying at the High Fane for the night after speaking with Saryoni for another two hours. They turned in as light was coming across the sky and Katryn was extremely reluctant to do so. She would have been willing to travel as long as possible to cut the distance to Ghostgate but the other two ganged up on her and her own exhaustion was taking hold. Not that that stopped Deryl. He was knocking on her door just moments after she closed it. Her frustration mounted even more: neither of them had slept in a real bed since Ald-ruhn and Sarethi, the joint pain from her bad shoulder and the wound caused by Baurus' sword, adding the steady ache in her heart for Martin was also making her more caustic than usual. She pulled open the door and arched her brows at the Nord who was already looking at her expectantly.

"We need to talk," He said and proceeded to brush by her and walk into the room.

"Sure, Lofolk, come in," She replied drily and left the door open so as not to encourage him to do anything too forward.

He stopped in the middle of the carpet and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were grey now and not in the least pleased. He arched his own brows and watched her closely as she tiredly rubbed her face and sank onto the foot of her bed.

"Was I right?" He asked and his tone had changed. It was expectant but not nearly as sharp as it had been.

She sighed and dropped her hands into her lap, twisting her seal ring around her finger as she decided what she wanted to tell him. Of course she truly didn't want to tell him anything but there was no avoiding it anymore and she was just so tired of trying to do so.

"Yes," She said quietly and didn't look up at him, "I am in love with Martin and I have been for the past nearly 16½ years. I didn't tell you because there is pain there that you can't imagine, Deryl."

The Nord hadn't moved and his face remained impassive. Internally, he was raging. He had never seen Katryn look so small or vulnerable and he never wanted to see her like that again. She had kept him going from day one and he couldn't lose that support, not now. Not now that he had taken a vow he couldn't recant and was mired in this mess so deeply it was a wonder he could still see.

"I'm sure," He answered and winced at the cool note in his voice. Knowing he was practically begging for death at this point, he couldn't help but press further, "But that was 16 years ago, Kat, you should toughen up and try me."

Her eyes went up to his and she was suddenly the old Katryn. The slight shoulders squared and she was getting to her feet, her eyes flashing like he had never seen them. She was furious and when she spoke, her voice was pure ice.

"'Try you?' Where the hell do you get off, Lofolk? Or is this another of your games?"

Deryl was getting angry in his turn and he wasn't even sure why. She had every right in the world to keep this from him and he knew it was a testament to his growing affections for her that this bothered him so much.

"No, Kat, not my game this time. You've made it crystal clear that I'm not to play with you and if anyone _is_ playing, it's you. But I'm not putting up with it tonight."

She was stalking towards him and he couldn't help but be impressed by her beauty even when she looked so murderous. Her eyes were blazing with anger and hurt and she breezed by him to go to the door, pointedly gesturing out with one hand.

"You're right, Deryl," She agreed and her voice was still cold, though it was losing its edge. Her exhaustion was taking over the anger and she wanted sleep more than anything else, "Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. You have asked me that question since you found out I had someone and now you have your answer. I will not tell you anything else because that pain is real and you'd have to have a damn good reason for me to confess everything. And if you can't come up with an argument, then get out."

She met his gaze and didn't like the shuttered expression on his face. He was even more unpredictable than usual and it made her nervous. Add to it that the alcohol had already lowered her defenses and since she was feeling lonely, she hadn't erected them again. Which only made her more prone to let him touch her and that was not something she needed at the moment. He finally moved, easing towards her like he was stalking prey which succeeded in setting her even more on edge.

"My argument?" He clarified in a voice thick with need and moved closer, "You really want me to say it aloud... again? Come on, Katryn, you know what I want."

Katryn let out a breath and felt her heart start racing. The hand gripping the door knob was unconsciously tightening on the metal and cutting into her flesh as he invaded her personal space for the first time since the Cavern of the Incarnate. He was leaning towards her, his grey eyes sparking with triumph when he recognized just how caught she was in his voice and nearness. She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his gaze.

"You have never made it a secret," She agreed and pressed herself against the wood of the door so she could gain some breathing space, "But you know now I can't offer you anything, Deryl. I didn't say that I _did_ love Martin, I _do_ love him... now and always. And I ca-"

The tip of Deryl's finger was pressed gently against her lips, stopping her words and making her go entirely still. She closed her eyes briefly as his fingers wandered over her cheek and jaw to brush her hair. It had been so long since she was touched with such tenderness and she missed it. His hand finally came to rest under her chin to tip her face up and she locked gazes with him as he uncurled his fingers against her neck.

"I know," He murmured and wanted her so badly it was a physical pain. Her eyes had banked to a warm glow and she didn't shy away from his touch. On the contrary, it was like she wanted it to go on and he knew he had to stop now. If he didn't, things would spiral out of control: nevermind Katryn's insistence about Martin and his own adamancy that sleeping with her had nothing to do with love. He still wasn't convinced but his feelings were too deep to be passed off as friendship, "But you're lonely and you shouldn't have to fight anymore."

She let out a shaky chuckle and was leaning against the door sleepily now instead of doing so to avoid him. Her cheeks were flushed and, forgetting herself, she reached up to brush his wrist with her fingertips.

"Fighting is all I have left, Deryl," She answered and her accent was a little thicker, "It's the only reason I have not given up yet and the only reason I won't. I fight for Martin because... it is the only thing I can do for him right now."

He felt the sharp sting of a rejection he had never experienced before and let out a sigh, leaning his free hand on the wood of the door at her shoulder, not ready to stop touching her yet.

"So, this is real? You mean to see this through?" He questioned and couldn't keep the hope from entering his voice.

She smiled gently and it was amazing how she could destroy him with such a simple gesture. _You fell hard and fast, Lofolk._ He thought to himself. _True to form! Though you have to admit: this one... you'll miss the most._ It figured the one he finally started to fall for was the one who wouldn't... or well, couldn't, let him act on it.

"I made the mistake of letting go of him once," She answered, "And I don't intend to do so again."

"I figured as much," He said in a sigh of longing and couldn't help but pull at her hair.

The Elf's smile softened more and she met his gaze again. It was astounding how, in the blink of an eye, her feelings transformed completely into fondness, but she still had to be wary of it. She had believed this of him before and he had let her down one too many times. For now though, she wasn't sure she cared too much.

"But you're right," She finally said, "I am lonely."

Deryl became thoughtful and glanced quickly at the room behind him. The Elf was looking at him rather suspiciously and he took the leap before he could talk himself out of it.

"Then I'll take care of that tonight. Let me stay with you until you fall asleep."

She blinked, successfully shocked by that. Her lips parted and her eyes locked on his. This was not what she had expected and the suspicions were growing. His own gaze was steady and for all the world, he was looking quite genuine.

"That's very kind of you, Deryl," She replied slowly and then couldn't help but poke at him, "Although now I have to question _your_ motives. What is going to stop you from taking advantage of the situation?"

"The fact that you'll kill me," He answered promptly and went to turn down the sheets on her bed. Pulling the heavily cushioned chair over to the bedside, he glanced back at her, adding brightly, "And though it be a great way to go out, trying to sleep with a pretty girl, I'm too young to die."

She watched him with a slight shake of her head and was happy to see his sunny disposition again. He truly meant this, that was obvious, and the need to tease him was stronger than ever. Her eyes flickered a little wickedly and she was walking forward while Deryl reverted to his baser instincts and watched her possessively. That triumph was sparking in his gaze once more and Katryn followed through with her plan. She placed one hand on his arm, stretched to her tiptoes and brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. Pulling back and giving his arm a squeeze, the Elf grinned at the utter shock on his face, pleased she had thrown him so successfully.

"That could not be more true. But thank you."


	29. Chapter 29

Mia wormed her way a little closer to the gleam of light showing in the corner of the basement. She had been tossed down here unceremoniously what seemed like weeks ago and hadn't seen Mart or Remar since. Common sense told her it was only a few days prior that they arrived but having no contact with the outside world had altered that. It took just a few hours for her to find the crack above the ledge in the cave and she had carefully lifted herself up, wriggling as close to it as her back would allow. Voices had come muffled and sometimes indistinct but she knew she was below a room belonging solely to her captor because his reedy tone was heard more often than any other. She had hollered and banged on the basement ceiling the first night and now shuddered every time she thought of doing so again. The Bosmer had been... less than pleasant and she had needed both potions the mute Altmer smuggled to her just to ease her pain enough to lay comfortably. The young Elf seemed to have some sort of freedom in the manor house and was sneaking things to her much more often than his master would like him to, Mia was sure.

At the moment, though, she was alone in the dry cave and trying to ignore the steady throb in her lower back as she strained to hear the Bosmer's voice. She had been terrified that he would discover her little sliver to companionship that first night and now she could only thank her gods that he hadn't. She wouldn't have been able to discover that Mart and Remar had lied to her about the Nerevarine being involved in all of this nor would she have the chance now to find out what was going to happen to her. Her hands and clothes were filthy from her efforts to make the little ledge wide enough to lay on and the ceiling was pressed close to her nose, making her grateful she wasn't claustrophobic. Steps rang just above her and she drew in a quiet breath, holding it and tipping her head to hear better.

"So far there has been no trouble," The Bosmer was saying, "She learned quickly that I am not to be trifled with and I haven't had issue with her since the first night."

"That's all well and good," This was a female voice that Mia didn't recognize and though she had to wonder briefly why they were speaking in Basic, she didn't dwell on it, "But what happens now? I thought you were going to take care of her as soon as she arrived. Has something else changed?"

"No, relax, Bargth. I know you want to charge forward but timing will be everything. The Nord and his companion are making strides. I have it on good authority that he has met with Vivec and will be traveling to Ghostgate in the next few days. A lot can happen in that span of time and the roads leading that way are wrought with danger."

"You are still convinced that Septim will fall for this then?" This was another male voice and his accent was one Mia had never heard before, though it was clear now why they weren't speaking in Elvish, "I understand wanting revenge when someone you love is killed but didn't Coll catch up with them?"

"He didn't stay with them long enough to get much of a grasp on anything," The Bosmer was flippant and condescending, "When Septim discovers that both his daughter and lover have been killed and the Nerevarine blamed, he will strike. It is in his nature. I have studied his moves long enough to know this."

Mia had to bite her tongue rather forcefully to keep from letting out an audible 'what?' _Father's lover?!_ Her mind exclaimed. Visions of the pretty little Elf that had been at the palace briefly before she was kidnapped came to the princess' thoughts and a sudden anger flooded her. It didn't matter that her mother was dead, the idea of her father being involved with another woman was absolutely out of the question. More than anything, Mia wanted to scream at them that they were wrong but she couldn't let them know she could hear.

"A previous lover," The woman's voice was cool and hard, "It was years ago and who's to say that their feelings have not changed?"

"I have my reasons, Bargth, and you know I will not be casting these dice fruitlessly. In a few days' time, Morrowind's leaders will be crushed and we can prepare to take over."

Mia couldn't help but gasp this time. Air caught in her throat and she clamped one hand over her mouth. _A few days' time?!_ She could feel sobs coming. She now knew the duration of her life.

* * *

"Such a beautiful place. Can't imagine why no one wants to live here," Deryl commented drily, shifting the pack so it rested more easily on his shoulders, "I mean between the musical calling of the cliff racers and the sandstorms that decide once an hour is just not often enough, it's a prime piece of property."

Katryn was shaking her head and letting out a small chuckle. They had put in a day and a half of traveling and most of the full day had been through a sandstorm. The Nord's usual complaints hadn't been nearly as whiny as the past ones and their interactions had been quite smooth. Granted, Katryn was still tempted to push him off one of the cliffs now and then and Deryl was still intent on winning her over, but for the most part they had taken it easy on each other. It had everything to do with the fact that the Elf had finally confessed and Deryl had as well, in a way. He was more willing to admit a respect for her as a person rather than her as a woman and she knew even that was a stretch for him.

"I think it may have to do with the population of those worms," She tacked on, humoring him, "I mean, you heard their noises the other night. Who wants to put up with that?"

It was Deryl's turn to chuckle and he grinned down at her.

"Worms, huh?"

She shrugged.

"I did not want you to feel left out."

"It's about time someone took that into account," He was suddenly a little more serious and his eyes were on the steep path they were climbing.

The Elf glanced up at him and studied his features briefly. Instead of falling right to sleep at the High Fane after his offer, she had ended up talking with him even further into the morning. He revealed much more of his past than she thought he would and in turn, she spoke of Martin and the Blades. Their relationship altered then and there and she realized she was understanding him a little better now.

"You're not alone in this, Deryl," She replied quietly and then shrugged when he glanced at her again, "I mean apart from my physical presence here. You have taken those steps to insure aid when and where you need it. These people didn't give their vows off-hand, they believe in you."

"And what about you?" The Nord asked and that exposing gaze was back.

"I'm here, aren't I?" She answered with ease and brushed off his implication as though it wasn't there.

"That's not what I meant, hero. I mean after all of this. I know I wouldn't be able to shake you off even if I wanted. But when all is said and done and you've given your all to help out Septim, are you really going back to him?"

Her smile was tender and sad. The burning eyes clouded with her memories of better times and when she tipped her head a little, Deryl wanted nothing more than to kiss her senseless.

"I've already told you: I do not intend to let go of him again, not if I can help it."

He took a breath, moreso to steady himself than prepare for her reaction.

"And what happens if neither of us make it? You said that you hadn't really parted on good terms. Does he have any idea how you feel now?"

Once more, Katryn nonchalantly shrugged off his words. She was surprising him. Before, her defensive stance about all of this deterred any questions and now it was like she never cared in the first place.

"Deryl, if I don't come back from this, I don't come back," Her voice was still soft and rather sad and it made him wonder if this had been her ploy all along, "And then I will just have to rest in knowing that I was given three months with him: time I would not trade for anything. Time that will have to be enough for both of us."

Deryl's hand itched to reach out and touch her shoulder and he felt a curious ache in his heart: The first woman he remotely let himself love and she was completely off-limits. This was a new phase of life for him and he wasn't sure he liked it. He opened his mouth to continue their conversation when Katryn froze, one hand flung out and the fingers touching his chest. Her fiery eyes were directed upward and he followed her gaze. A hawk was swooping lazily across the grey clouds, drifting lower before disappearing behind the foothills they were approaching. The Elf was frowning and her face creased with concentration as her eyes went back to him.

"Hawks aren't common here," She said in an undertone, "And there is something ahead. I do not like this, Deryl. Chances are it's only one of the sentries posted at Ghostgate but-"

Deryl grabbed her roughly about the waist, muttering curses underneath his breath as he half threw, half carried her behind a boulder. Arrows went whistling past their heads and cracked off the rocks around them as the Nord shielded Katryn with his body. She recovered from her shock quickly and was pushing him back a little while she cast the shield charm. Immediately, her free hand went for her own bow and she crouched, thanking whatever power it was that kept her from loosing its string earlier. The arrows seemed to be coming from everywhere and it took a moment before she spotted the first archer. He was cloaked in grey, partially hidden behind a clutch of boulders above and a little to the left of their hiding spot.

"Stay down, Deryl," She told him, "I cannot hold the shield while I shoot."

The Nord slid down a little further as Katryn let the charm drop and fired the bow faster than he could blink. There was a barely audible, strangle cry and she was dropping beside him. Her eyes flickered over the landscape and she arched up again. It took two shots to kill that one and things were suddenly quiet. He watched as she cast the detection charm and then swore softly under her breath.

"Cowards," She said darkly, "I cannot tell how many, but there are more."

"Ahead of us?" He questioned, not about to argue logistics with her.

"Yes, damn it. If they are in the rocks like this, it won't be easy going."

"There's nothing for it. Besides, these bastards don't stand a chance. Not with your talent at that thing," He was grinning now and the adrenaline was tinting his cheeks and making his eyes dance.

She let out a humorless chuckle, shifting both the quiver and pack on her shoulders. Her eyes never left the cliffs towering on either side of them and she was casting the shield charm again before motioning him to move. He had crammed them into a crevice between two good sized boulders and was blocking the way out.

"At least you are an optimist."

"Hey, you worked that one into a compliment," His voice was jovial and he eased out of the hiding place with her so they both could be protected.

"I still have a little ways to go. Do not get too excited."

The Nord could see the strain of keeping the shield charm up in her face and he frowned, following closely. His eyes kept flickering between Katryn's face to the cliffs and he wondered if he would be able to throw them behind another boulder fast enough when the next onslaught came or her strength gave out.

"I don't doubt it," He was as absentminded as she was, "Let me know when you can't hold that shield anymore."

She nodded and he was taking her elbow, pulling her with him closer to the cliff face just in case. They inched up the path, muscles tightening and ears pricked for any sound. Time dragged on and their nerves wore down and Katryn hardly thought when she heard the small avalanche of stones come from above and behind them. She shoved Deryl towards the rocks and spun at the same time. Her eyes locked on the archer just as he loosed his arrow and she released her own, dropping to the ground and feeling the point of the arrow catch her hair. It pulled cruelly and she ignored the pain that snapped into her left forearm to watch the archer fall almost gracefully from the ledge he had been perched on. He was dead before he even hit the ground and the Elf was springing to a crouch when Deryl shouted a warning.

This next archer was just peering over a boulder from ahead of them and the Nord only caught it because a break in the clouds allowed for the sun to glint off her blonde hair. In seconds, she was no longer a threat and Katryn was firing a third arrow at a target Deryl couldn't see. It was quite a bit further on and he heard the slide of rocks as the body caused another small avalanche. The Elf crept to him and put one finger to her lips. The arrow had pulled locks of her hair loose and left a gouge like a small canyon in the skin at her hairline. She ignored the trickle of blood as she perched on her heels next to him and watched where the third assassin had been hidden. Like she had thought, two more were spying from their hiding spots to see whether or not their targets had caused the noise. And immediately, they were no more a threat than the rocks themselves. She was casting her detection charm and then leaning towards him to whisper in his ear,

"The next ones are further. I do not like this, Deryl, but I don't know what choice we have. Do you have any ideas?"

He snorted, but softly.

"Right, hero, like I'm going to take over now and get us killed. You take the lead here, you're doing great."

"Now you're a peon," She muttered and turned to head up the path again, hoping a little vindictively that he didn't understand that one.

His hand went around her wrist and he was tugging her back to wipe the blood from her forehead. Her eyebrows went up as their gazes locked and the movement made the bleeding a little worse. He smirked at her and wiped at it again.

"I'd follow you anywhere, hero, you know that."

"Good. Do it now."

She pulled loose maybe a little too roughly and was moving on without him.


	30. Chapter 30

She pulled loose maybe a little too roughly and was moving on without him. They didn't have to go far before Katryn was killing two more of the assassins. They were within a few miles of Ghostgate now and the Elf couldn't help wondering how the would-be killers had slipped amongst the watchmen. It was a little too real and terrifying a thought to believe it to be one big conspiracy and she pushed it to the back of her mind. Glancing up at Deryl, who was touching his cheek where the arrow had passed a little too close for comfort, she smiled grimly.

"Are you ready to go on?"

He wasn't given a chance to reply. There was a quick movement behind him and Katryn was posed for firing once again. The Nord moved even faster and grabbed the last assassin by the arm, throwing him over his shoulder and slamming the man into the dirt at their feet. It was a sinewy Altmer with snapping blue eyes and when his hand flew to his belt, Katryn reacted. She was crouched with her own blade against the Elf's neck before Deryl could blink.

"Good job, Lofolk," She said shortly, almost sweetly and her eyes didn't leave the other Elf. Without looking up, she added, "Your hawk gave you away and, as usual, you underestimated what Dunmer are capable of."

Deryl glanced up in surprise and, sure enough, the hawk was swooping above them, drifting lower with each rotation. He let out a chuckle before he could help it and was shaking his head at Katryn.

"Whoever sent you is an idiot," He told the Altmer, "Taking out the Champion of Cyrodiil is going to take more than one measly troop of assassins."

"Which brings us to our next question," Katryn was looking at the Altmer, "You understand Basic speech, you knew I was talking about that bird, so don't play dumb. Will you talk or should I end it now?"

The Altmer's slanted blue eyes were flickering between the two of them and then glancing up at his hawk that was coming still closer. He had dropped his hands to the ground and was slowly regaining his breath. When his gaze locked on Katryn's again, he shrugged a little and was suddenly nonchalant, as though she wasn't within millimeters of ending his life with a simple flick of her wrist.

"The one that sent me is an idiot, yes, but I am no fool," His accent was thick and with the way the _r_ 's rolled and the _l_ 's and _g_ 's sometimes dropped, it was rather interesting to hear, "I am not going to be a sacrifice to his whim or yours. I do not know his name, he was wise enough to avoid that. What I can tell you is this: we were to make it appear as though the Nerevar attacked you and both were killed."

Deryl frowned and was dropping to a crouch beside Katryn.

"Why the archers then?" He asked, "I mean how were you going to explain those kinds of wounds?"

The Altmer was annoyed with the doubt and disbelief in the Nord's voice.

"I told you, I am no fool. This woman is the Champion and I thought hand-to-hand combat would be impossible. The archers were simply meant to incapacitate and I was proved wrong."

"I have to say I'm glad you were," Katryn's own voice was dry and she cocked her head at him, her burning eyes banking to a steady gleam, "You never heard his name, you said. I thought the Brotherhood were supposed to carry their orders until the job was done?"

The Altmer's brows arched up and it was his turn to chuckle. His expression became quite self-deprecating and he shook his head before he realized Katryn had moved the blade enough to allow it.

"He was a fool," He said softly and his gaze was glittering with admiration, "You are quite the woman, Katryn Gwynyth. Failing in my contract where you are concerned is not the blow to my pride as I thought it would be."

She inclined her head and removed the knife completely. It was flipped absentmindedly through her slender fingers and she was watching him closely.

"It was a guess, though I do recognize the hilt of that sword," She explained and motioned to his belt, "The Dark Brotherhood's symbol is hard to confuse with any other."

Deryl was nervous about Katryn's sudden relaxed air and he edged a little closer just in case the Altmer decided to finish his job. But the Elf was successfully cowed and he was actually smiling at Katryn as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"So what happens now?" He asked and appeared resigned to whatever fate they chose for him.

Katryn was getting to her feet, still unconcerned, and tucking the knife away in her belt. She stepped back a little and was eyeing him as he stood.

"You run," She told him simply, "The Brotherhood doesn't take lightly to those who fail and I will not kill you just because you were hired to do the same," Her eyes were on Deryl briefly, knowing that he wouldn't like this decision, "So your only option is to run. I won't stop you and the gods will decide your future."

He was looking at her with more than a little amazement. His blue eyes went to Deryl for a split-second and saw that the Nord clearly didn't like this arrangement.

"If the roles were reversed-"

"I know," She said, "But they are not. I would leave now before Lofolk loses patience. I have no qualms with letting you go. You told us what you know and that is enough for me, not so for him."

Deryl's grim smile was enough assurance for the Altmer and he allowed time to sweep Katryn a bow.

"The Brotherhood will think twice before cornering you again, champion, and your mercy will speak volumes."

He disappeared up the road behind them and the hawk went with him. Deryl was looking at Katryn in wonder.

"You do realize what you just did, don't you?" He asked and was annoyed as she left him and started up the road again, "He'll just-"

"He will run," She interrupted calmly, "Assassins are cowards for the most part and he favors his own neck more than completing his hit for someone he doesn't respect."

"But on the off chance he does return to the one who hired him, what are we going to do, Kat? I can't imagine any of this having a pleasant outcome."

She sighed and wondered if he could really be that dense. It seemed so simple to her. She had studied the Brotherhood in the past and she knew their ins and outs well enough for someone not involved. Deryl was just being impossible and she knew Gozrak would never have allowed her to set the Altmer free either. Thoughts of him were painful and she was continuing so she didn't dwell long on them,

"He won't. The Brotherhood will not except defeat in any of their writs and if he returns, they'll kill him. If he really wants that outcome, it still won't matter. We will reach Ghostgate in the next few hours and they won't be given enough time to dispatch other assassins to catch us before we begin something irreversible."

"You better be right, hero," He muttered, impressed in spite of himself, "Or all of this will be on your head if and when we fail."

"I am," Was her simple response and then she fell silent.

To Deryl's chagrin, she was right. They reached Ghostgate without further attempts on their lives and the guards that greeted them clearly knew nothing of assassins crawling the foothills. The Buoyant Armigars were instantly compliant when Deryl delivered Saryoni's message and the captain offered them full use of the store room if they needed anything. Katryn spent a little time with him, gaining more information on the citadels, Odrosal in particular. Saryoni had explained that one of the artifacts needed to defeat Dagoth Ur, the Dwemer hammer Sunder, was recovered some time ago. The adventurer and assumed Nerevar at the time, suffered from handling Sunder too long and later died of complications. He was slowly driven insane and succumbed to corprus at the High Fane under the then Archcanon's watch.

Deryl, properly equipped with Wraithguard, had carried Sunder all this time and nothing had affected him, which simply cemented the certainty of who he was. Odrosal was the next citadel that had to be conquered and the artifact they were recovering was the shortblade Keening. Deryl was less than pleased to discover they had to go up against another Dagoth lord and Katryn silenced him effortlessly with the question of whether or not he really wanted the immortality presented to him. The captain informed them of the citadel's condition and handed over a map that had been used in that area for years. Odrosal was a smaller citadel and one of the more dangerous, but most importantly, it was on the way to Dagoth Ur and Katryn's mind was set even more firmly on what had to be done. Deryl just didn't have a choice. He could either follow her or be left completely in the dark. As a result, he was trailing after her within an hour of arriving at Ghostgate as she headed further into the barren wasteland.

Three miles down this road, there was a rundown outpost that had clearly seen better days. The spires and once beautifully kept stones were faded and broken and the door they approached was one that had not been opened for years. It was the only usable door they could find and it was also the only entrance to the main watchtower. Katryn restrung her bow as Deryl readied his mace and longsword. The Elf didn't even have to ask whether he was prepared as she straightened again and shifted her quiver. Deryl gave her a nod anyway and the door was unlocked. They both had to work to shove it open and when they did, the air that wafted out was dry and stale.

Katryn's detection charm turned up a few hits and she proceeded silently with Deryl at her side. The interior of the citadel was dusty and thick with heat from the lava fields that surrounded the watchposts here. The Elf was looking at the construction of the walls with interest. The designs in the stones were beautiful and it was obvious that, at one time, this place had been well cared for. The path they were following was slowly inclining and twisting as it headed for the top. Rooms opened occasionally in the center of the tower and so far the coast was clear. Katryn kept casting her charm and the results never changed. Just as Deryl was about to ask her what this could mean, there was a sliding sound of bones on the stone and around the corner came a skeleton that was just as surprised to see them as they were to see it. There was a brief moment of hesitation and then, with a screech, the skeleton flung itself at them.

Deryl immediately stepped forward, ducking underneath the sword swung at him and then shattering the skeleton with one swing of the mace. He arched his brows at Katryn and was rather disappointed she wasn't more impressed. Instead she was casting her detection charm again and nodding at him.

"Let's go."


	31. Chapter 31

They pressed on and came across two bonewalkers that were too sluggish to last long against the Elf and Deryl. Katryn's charm turned up a few more hits as they left the creatures' bodies and she motioned for Deryl to slow as they came up on another turn. The Nord was grasping his mace and had finally strapped on his shield as well. His eyes were a shade of blue now and glittering in the pale light as he started around the corner before the Elf.

In the blink of an eye, there was a solid 'thump' and Deryl's breath escaped with a pained _oof_. He was stumbling back into Katryn and his elbow dug directly into the arm wounded by Baurus' sword. Pain snapped through her and she was hardly able to keep her feet as the corprus stalker advanced on them. It was a hulking creature with shoulders heavier than Gozrak's and its small square head could hardly be differentiated from the rest of its body. The grimy skin was stretched too tight and there were open, bloody sores all over it.

"Kat," Deryl managed in a strangled whisper as he tried to gain his breath, "Don't-"

"There is no time," She snapped.

The Elf pulled away from his hold and was charging at the corprus beast. She ducked under the heavy fist that was thrown at her and darted up the path behind the monster. It was quick on its feet for something so large and it swung again, this time its claws raking across her breastplate in a call that was a little too close for comfort. She backpeddled even more and was firing an arrow as the monster came at her. It found its mark and sank into what passed for an eye in this thing and a moment later, Deryl's mace was bashing in the side of its head. It dropped, lifeless, to the ground and Katryn avoided it to return to the Nord's side.

He was fuming, his eyes snapping in the poor light, and his breath was slowly returning to normal. The look of pinched pain on his face was not encouraging and she didn't like the way he moved his arms so tenderly as he put one hand to his chest.

"Damn it, Kat-"

"It had to be done," She interrupted and was crouching, pulling her pack off her shoulders to dig in it for a health potion, "And I am fine. That thing didn't have a chance to-"

He was easing to his heels beside her, dropping the mace and wincing as he tried to take a deep breath. One hand went out to lift her arm and inspect the armor and his accusing gaze met hers.

"Really? What's this... then?"

She glanced down at it briefly and saw that the creature's claws had left gouges in the leather but hadn't broken through to the skin. Her shoulders went up in a shrug and she pulled free to hand him the potion.

"It is what happens in battle," She replied simply, "You were not in any condition to fight that thing and I wasn't ready for our quest to be over so abruptly."

"Finally coming... around?" His voice was slowly growing stronger and the effects of the potion were positive as some of the color returned to his face.

She was ignoring that and looking him over critically as he gingerly picked up the mace. He was moving slowly and the concern was evident on Katryn's face.

"I should look at that just to make sure it is not too serious," She said and frowned.

"You're proving my point," He answered and though he was teasing, his eyes were almost hopeful.

Katryn muttered a single word under her breath and was getting to her feet, shouldering her pack. Deryl grinned, more or less back to his old self, and joined her. She was casting her detection again and slinging the bow across her shoulder.

"If that's an addition to your alphabet, you'll have to use Basic because I don't know that word yet."

"It wasn't Elvish," She replied and started up the path again, "You just have poor ears and it is another reason why you have become a quandary."

"A quandary, huh?" He repeated and was relieved to feel that burning pain in his chest ease to a dull ache. Katryn motioned with one hand and he lowered his voice to a murmur, "That one isn't new to any Nord."

"With good reason," She muttered in reply and was slowing as they came up on another turn.

This one ended in a short hallway with a heavy door barring their way. Deryl was about to ask her what to do now when the door slowly creaked open with a squeal of protest from the rusty hinges. Below that, there was a harsh intake of breath and Katryn was letting an arrow fly before anything was even visible. Deryl was on the defensive as he recognized the sound as the same one from the caverns of Kogoruhn and a second later, the towering Dagoth monster was flying at them.

The Elf was letting one more arrow loose and then grabbing her shortsword as Deryl stepped in to help. She ducked forward and out of the way as the Nord swung with his mace and was startled by how unshakable this creature was. Katryn struck at the thing from behind and it whirled on her, attacking with a ferocity that pushed her steadily back to the gaping darkness where it had come from. Deryl momentarily allowed this as he considered the best way to kill it. There didn't seem to be a body to the mass of black robes, the eyes were piercing red and neither of the two arrows jutting from its neck seemed to phase it. The shock to the Nord's arms from his first attempt told him that beating the Dagoth was not the right path. There was another flash of robes that made it seem tangible and Deryl suddenly had an idea. The thing had come from a darkened room and was fighting like hell to get this confrontation back that way.

Katryn let out a cry of pain and the Nord charged forward. The Elf was thrown roughly back against the wall and the monster was after her when Deryl tackled it, shouting,

"Light, Kat! It doesn't like the light!"

The Elf was lost for only a moment and then she rushed forward, thrusting her sword up as she conjured a ball of fire in one palm. The monster was turning back to her with a hiss, hating being caught between the two of them and she ducked underneath its swing and shoved the fire up into the blazing red eyes. The Dagoth let out a screech of fear and rage, arms flailing around at them and then clawing at its face as though trying to beat away the flames. The movements merely encouraged the fire and soon the whole thing was engulfed. It lashed out once more and the arm knocked into Katryn's chest, sending her staggering back and igniting the locks of hair that had tumbled loose. The monster disappeared into the darkened room as the Elf frantically slapped away the fire that was trying to eat at her bow and Deryl was beside her, helping. Together, they extinguished the flames and the Nord was inspecting her cheek where the heat had done some damage.

"That was too close," The Elf commented in a sigh as she brushed his hands away and made for the room.

Deryl pressed his lips together in annoyance and followed after her as she cast her healing charm and the pale blue haze surrounded her momentarily before it seemed to seep into her skin. The room was inky black and the only source of light was the smouldering pile of robes that was all that remained of the Dagoth monster. Deryl was wordlessly holding out one torch and Katryn lit it with another fireball. In the sudden flare of the torch, the burns on her cheek and the singed hair were even more apparent and he let his gaze wander down over her to where the left forearm was bleeding onto the gauntlet.

"I'll live, Deryl," She told him quietly, reading his thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken aloud, "I have seen worse. But if it sets you at ease, I'll let you look for Keening while I tend to these."

"It would," He answered bluntly, "You're right, Kat, that was too close and I won't risk losing you to another episode like that."

She felt a flush come into her cheeks and rolled her eyes as she turned about and found a relatively clean place on the floor to sit. Although she didn't need it, she lit another torch and secured it on a sconce above her head before settling on the floor with her pack open in front of her. Deryl was prowling about the room that was circular in shape and surprisingly neat. There were a few bookshelves that were mostly whole and housing tattered books, two old desks that the Nord was currently examining, several trunks and an upended table with broken bits of chairs surrounding it. Like the rest of the tower, this room had once been beautiful. The mosaics of tile were still there if you looked close enough and though some were missing and more were grimy with dirt and dust, the intricacy of the pictures was very apparent. There had once been windows all around but currently, there were boarded up and swathed with heavy black curtains that reminded Katryn of Camoran's Paradise with an interesting pang of wistful relief that that episode was over.

She felt that softening of her features that came whenever she thought of those days, (and Martin), and she ducked her head quickly as Deryl faced the room to cross to one of the trunks. The Elf tried to clear her mind and she focused on the removal of the gauntlet. The sword wound was bleeding rather heavily again and the stitches had pulled where they once secured the skin at her wrist. She went about tightening these and then wound a new bandage around the entire thing. Pain snapped through it as she refastened the gauntlet and she gritted her teeth and downed one of her potions. She was pulling her hair free and examining the damage done, when there was a soft click and muttered curse from Deryl. The Nord was on his knees in front of the trunks and holding both pieces of one of his broken lock picking tools.

"Damn, that's the only one that would fit this lock," He told her in frustration as she moved to his side.

She sank beside him and studied the lock, tossing her hair over her shoulder. It was a heavy padlock that had not been removed for some time and she was sure that the key had long since disappeared. Still, it didn't hurt to ask.

"There was no key in either of those desks?"

Deryl's frustration was rapidly waning as he watched her look the trunk over. He really did like this image of her when her hair was down, he hadn't been lying about that and neither had they been empty words.

"Nope, no key," He answered and heard how his voice had deepened a little.

She was arching her brows, reading his thoughts once more and deciding to dismiss them. Her gaze went back to the lock and she picked it up with one hand, holding it in her palm and trying her simple unlocking charm. There was no satisfying little click and she frowned, letting it fall so that it hit the wood with a thud.

"Well, I could always set it on fire," She suggested.

"Right," He was sarcastic and still hadn't looked away from her. Locks of her hair were slipping forward, grazing his arm and making his fingers itch to tangle themselves within the heavy mass, "And burn the sword right with it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Her own voice was just as sarcastic and she was leaning forward, "It won't burn up a sword supposedly made by gods. All that really has to burn is the top. As soon as that's done, I can put it out and you can grab Keening."

He couldn't help himself. One hand went up and he was lifting the locks of hair hiding her burnt cheek from view. She started with the sudden contact and her flaming eyes locked on his.

"Because that worked so well last time," He argued and gently brushed the afflicted skin, "That's looking pretty bad, Kat."

She didn't pull away. Oddly, she was caught in the care she saw in his deep green eyes and felt herself wishing she could return it. He was a good man for all his bad habits and crude ways and she knew that, much like Levin, he deserved a woman that would love him unconditionally. But it wasn't going to be her.

"I told you," She said and her own voice had grown quite a bit softer, "I have had worse."

"You shouldn't have had anything like this," He answered and was well aware of the danger they were in. She wasn't her usual cold and distant self and the warmth he saw in her eyes was leading him to make the suggestion of bedding down here and now until the world came to an end.

"It was my choice," Her reply was simple and she was pulling away as he leaned forward. His eyes followed her in annoyance and determination and she was putting more space between them before he could recover, "And I can't bring myself to regret it."

"It figures the first woman I can't have is the one I want the most," He muttered in a fit of frustrated anger that didn't suit him. His green eyes were cloudy and more honest than she had ever seen them as he added, "He was a damn fool for ever letting you go."

She smiled the self-deprecating smile and her palm was bright with the fireball again. Cocking her head a little as she set the top of the trunk on fire, she answered,

"I was a fool for leaving him."

Her plan worked and after she had doused the flames and the burnt wood cooled enough, Deryl was reaching in with the hand protected by Wraithguard and drawing out the blade Keening. It wasn't quite long enough to qualify as a longblade and was too long to pass for a shortblade. The hilt looked to be made of pure gold and the blade itself was gleaming like a diamond. Despite years of disuse, the point was dangerously sharp and the scabbard appeared brand new.

"This is it, huh?" He said dryly, still shaken by Katryn's nearness and subsequent refusal of his advancement. But his voice was sarcastic and the eyes were beginning to dance again; proof that he could not be discouraged for long.

She was rolling her eyes and, with another glance at Keening, was returning to her pack. She quickly spread a little salve across the burns on her cheek as Deryl fastened the new sword to his belt, tucking the other longblade away. The Elf shouldered her pack after setting things right and handed Deryl the torch she had been using. His own had gone out while he was distracted with both the trunk and her presence. He took it, his fingers brushing hers and she started out the door, saying briskly,

"Thank the stars we do not have to deal with the other Dagoth lords."

"Unless I wanted those amulets," He replied, falling into step beside her and wishing with all his might that Martin Septim did not exist, "Which, I have to say, is rather tempting."

"No time, Deryl," She gave him a quick, calculating look as they headed back down the tower path.

Saryoni had been flippant about those amulets even though Vivec had recommended defeating the lords to claim them. The Archcanon had been under the impression that, with Dagoth Ur's defeat, the others would be destroyed as well and Katryn, not wanting to waste anymore of Mia's precious time, had been all for experimenting with that. Deryl was less easily convinced. The mercenary side of his brain had whispered that the riches from those other fortresses would mean living in comfort for the rest of his life. Consequently, he had left Katryn in the uncomfortable position of uncertainty with whether or not he would change his mind halfway through this new facet of their quests. Not that the riches were the only reason. Taking on the rest of the lords would mean spending more time with Katryn and every time he thought of this coming to an end, there was a little pang that went through him. He was going to miss his pretty little 'hero'.


	32. Chapter 32

The hulking figure by the windows turned about abruptly when Martin opened the door to the office. Even with the poor light casting his face in shadows, it was clear that Gozrak Shor'na was pissed off. There was a silvery-grey wolfhound at his side that was instantly on its feet and cocking its head at Martin as though trying to decide whether or not this newcomer was to be trusted. Snow was falling thickly outside and piling on the window ledges, proving that the weather was just as out of sorts as those in the palace.

"Gozrak?" Martin greeted unceremoniously, feeling his exhaustion more keenly than ever before. He rubbed at his face with one hand and than raked it through his mussed hair, "They didn't tell me it was you."

The Orc wasn't a fool and he could clearly see that all was not right. The Emperor's usual pleasant, open face was drawn and pale and the once lively blue eyes were haunted. Gozrak's initial anger at the scarcity of answers he got was fading fast and replaced with concern.

"Freh, what the hell is going on here?" He never had been able to think of Martin as a Septim, nevermind his clear heritage, "I haven't gotten a word from Katryn, Coll didn't return like he thought he would and not one of your guards could tell me what happened."

"They aren't supposed to," Martin sent another curious look at the wolfhound and then crossed the room to the cabinet where the ale and beer were kept for just these occasions, "But not getting word to you is kind of my fault... or well, Katryn was involved, of course. She was afraid of what you'd do if you knew. Beer or ale?"

"Knew what?" The Orc's voice was taking on that dangerous note now and his black eyes were glittering with anger, "What did she end up doing? Is she here?"

"Well... no," Martin put one hand in the air, a rather imperious signal that meant silence when he was speaking with any other subject.

But Gozrak was not 'any other subject' and he was certainly not prone to following any orders but his own and occasionally Katryn's.

"You-"

"She acted on her own," Martin was falling into the old habit of raising his voice to be heard over the Orc's and was shocked when it worked. He poured two glasses of ale, suddenly remembering that the Bruma brew was a favorite of Gozrak's. Waving to the chairs and knowing that he would have the floor now to explain, he went on with the tale in a softer voice.

The Orc's features grew stormier with every word and his fingers were pressing so tightly on the mug he held, Martin wondered absently if it would be mangled beyond repair. Gozrak was more understanding after he heard that Mia had been taken and the abrupt change in Martin's appearance was suddenly made clear.

"And Kat didn't want you going along because of your wife's complications," The Emperor was finishing in a tone that seemed to be exhaustion itself and then he was looking at Gozrak a little sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask. How is she?"

Gozrak snorted, sitting back and eyeing Katryn's wolfhound as he crept closer to Martin. This was the old Freh and he had always shocked the Orc with how considerate he could be.

"Don't apologize," He said gruffly, waving one hand dismissively, "You've been going through hell here and I shouldn't have barged in. Marna is fine and we have a baby girl."

Martin felt one of maybe three true smiles curl his mouth as he recognized the pride and joy in Gozrak's face. The wolfhound was now nosing its head into Martin's lap and he absentmindedly stroked its velvety ears.

"Congratulations," He said with genuine feeling, knowing exactly what Gozrak was going through, "And you are not barging in. You're always welcome here, Gozrak, you know that."

The Orc arched his brows and sat forward in the chair, studying the Emperor as he cradled the mug in one huge hand.

"It's never been like that, Freh, and I don't think it ever will be," He wasn't being an ass and Martin was quick to see this. He was stating a simple fact and as harsh as it sounded, it was the truth, "Without Katryn, I wouldn't have the relationship with you and without her now, there is no reason for me to stay. I came to get answers and my thanks to you for complying. The beast there just seemed to know I was trying to find out about her and I wasn't able to leave without him."

Martin was frowning down at the wolfhound who seemed quite content where he was and then looked up at Gozrak again. The Orc was on his feet and looking like he was ready to leave just as abruptly as he came.

"This one is Katryn's?"

"You've met him already," Gozrak reminded him shortly and was placing the mug on the table, "He was a gift from Levin a few years ago."

Martin tried his very best to keep from grimacing at the man's name and to his credit the only visible change was a slight tightening of the lips. His hand never paused in its stroking of the hound's ears and he lifted his shoulders in a little shrug.

"He looks different when he's happy," He replied quietly. Indeed, the animal that had growled so ferociously, hackles up and looking ready to attack any second when Martin had entered Katryn's barn that night was a completely different one from this placid dog that was beginning to drool on his clothes, "What's his name?"

"Hecter."

It was the Orc's turn to frown as Martin's face softened and his eyes glowed warmly. Katryn had never told him where she got the name and he didn't even guess that it was a link to her 'errand girl' days. Never guessed that it was a tie to Martin's own name and proof to the Emperor that those years of separation had been just as painful and difficult for her as him.

* * *

Deryl's chest was black and blue from the corprus monster's attack and although Katryn was willing to look it over and make sure nothing was broken too badly, she refused to touch him longer than necessary. Instead, she merely handed over the salve that would produce a pleasant numbness for the pain and set about tightening the string of her bow. They were perched outside the door that would lead them to Dagoth Ur and Deryl's look of pinched pain was not encouraging. Katryn made him sit and endured lewd comments and excessive leering when she told him to let her look at the damage. He was more than happy to oblige and then was rather disappointed that she wasn't more effected by him. Her only response was the usual roll of the eyes and slight shake of the head. She was too interested in finishing this to humor him anymore and Deryl was quick to see that, not that it made a difference.

They were both jittery with nervousness and excitement about this last trial and it didn't help that Katryn believed him to be flippant about the whole thing. He was also sure he'd be dead if the Elf was capable of killing with a look. Especially after offering to get some of the 'shakes' out of their systems by bedding down for the rest of the evening on just one bedroll, preferably his own. Katryn knew what he was doing and wasn't too hard on him after some of the more disagreeable suggestions but she could hear the hint of hope there and she had to squash it. The Nord knew it wasn't going to work and she was getting tired of explaining to him just why for the umpteenth time.

"Well, hero," He said as he got to his feet, strapping the last fastener of his thick leather breastplate and pulling the oddly shaped iron key from his pocket.

Her eyes were glittering brightly in the growing twilight and she was slinging her bow back where it belonged. She arched her brows and studied him, wondering by his shuttered eyes if this was going to be his last ditch effort to bed her.

"Well," She repeated, meaning for him to go on.

He was watching her closely, like a child watching his mother, and he nodded once, setting his chin and straightening his shoulders. It was such an endearing move and it seemed to take on all the responsibilities he had been willing to shirk just moments before and she couldn't help but smile tenderly at him. She saw how his lips parted a little at that and a small voice in her head began tempting her. _Just one kiss, Kat. Just one. What could it hurt? You may die in there and all he wants is a kiss._ But that didn't belong to him, only to Martin, and no matter what happened, she couldn't betray her priest like that. Some of this must have been revealed in her face because Deryl was reaching out to shake her hand and then pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head lightly.

"Any other time, Kat," He murmured against her soft hair.

She nodded, touched by how sweet he could be.

"I know."

He was the first to step back and, after another searching look in her face, he was turning and heading up to the door. A moment later, it was unlocked and the two of them were plunging into the darkness without another pause for thought.

It was deep and crushing and Katryn's heart leapt with the closeness of it. Deryl held out a torch and she absentmindedly waved one hand to conjure fire. She felt the little drain of energy but there was no flare of light that greeted them. Frowning and trying once more, she glanced up at Deryl's face. He was looking at her expectantly and didn't seem to sense anything amiss.

"Back up a minute," She said softly and he did so, furrowing his brows. The Elf shoved the door open again and stepped out, trying the fireball. This time her palm lit brilliantly and she swore softly under her breath. Deryl touched the torch to her hand as she added, "No magic, Deryl, and we are in for it."

"Changing your mind?" He challenged.

She squared her shoulders and moved past him, starting down the cavern path without him or the light.

"Not on your life," She answered as her slender form disappeared.

He chuckled as he fell into step next to her. The light bounced off the dirt walls and chased the shadows from their feet. Cobwebs were looped between cracks and stones and there were little scuttling sounds of rodents somewhere in the darkness. The ceiling was low and Deryl had to watch his head in several places while Katryn tried to keep the old panic at bay. She was on the verge of asking the Nord to talk to her when he stiffened beside her as though struck. Glancing up when he slowed to a stop, the Elf frowned as his eyes went about, looking for someone.

"Can you hear that?" Deryl asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Katryn listened for a moment and beyond the rodents, the pop and hiss of the torch and a steady dripping deeper in the cavern, there was nothing.

"No," She replied, "But what are you hearing?"

"A voice," He grew quiet again, cocking his head towards the path ahead of them and then adding, "It's calling the Nerevar. A real pleasant one, I have to say."

She couldn't help smiling at the dry sarcasm in his voice as she suddenly understood. Pressing on and attempting to shove the claustrophobia to the back of her mind, she absentmindedly tried her detection charm. When it didn't work she let out a little sigh and then turned her attention to the Nord.

"You are the Nerevar, Deryl," She said matter-of-factly, "And I have already told you that you are the one who will be called. I'm Cyrodiil's Champion, not Morrowind's."

"You're having all sorts of changes of hearts here, hero," He commented as he followed after her again and ignored the sing-song lilt of the voice that called to the Nerevar, "Why can't I be included in those?"

"Reprobate," She muttered under her breath and was tempted to clap her hand over his mouth when he laughed loudly.

"That's a little rough," He was grinning down at her in pure amusement, his previous misgivings about this almost forgotten, "Although I suppose since we're getting to the end of our jaunt here, you're getting a little desperate to finish this alphabet."

"Privileged, Dunmer information, Lofolk," She replied absently, listening for any other sounds, "I'm one of those authoritarian bastards, remember?"

His grin softened into a smile and his eyes became shuttered again. The voice was almost lost under Katryn's and though he didn't want this banter to end, he was saying before he could help it,

"Well, yeah, but this one, I'm beginning to genuinely like."

She glanced sidelong at him and, for once, didn't roll her eyes. Instead she lifted her shoulders a little and fixed her attention ahead of them.

"That means there's hope for us all," She replied with dry humor and succeeded in making him chuckle once more.

This easy atmosphere that had settled between them was rather surprising and anyone watching would never assume that both of them were entirely on edge in the crushing, quiet dark. Though Katryn knew this was probably for the best. He was helping distract her from the claustrophobic feeling and she was keeping his mind off the voice that echoed throughout the cavern.

"Always," He said promptly, "Isn't that what I'm meant for? Keeping-"

Her fingers closed on the arm holding the torch aloft and she shoved it down. Ahead of them, around a corner was a gleam of firelight and the Elf was putting her finger to her lips. She dropped her hand from his arm and inched forward, slipping the bow from her back as he followed after her. They came to the corner and Katryn scanned the area ahead of them. There were shallow bowls loaded with firewood and flaring brightly. The light flashed off the stone and dirt all around them and although there was a low, flat stone slab that had obviously been used as a table, there were no signs of life anywhere. She motioned for Deryl and eased around the corner fully, keeping her eyes peeled. Still, there was nothing and two paths branched off from this, both lit with the same bowls.

The Elf glanced between them as they approached the little table. On the stone slab was spread a long, crooked knife, candles the color of blood, black chalk and what looked eerily like a human skull. Katryn was frowning down at these, recognizing the patterns drawn on the skull as those used by necromancers. Deryl watched with some trepidation as she picked this up and examined it closely.

"Kat," He said uncertainly, "I don't think-

"Quit being ridiculous," She interrupted softly, "I don't believe in such things and the popular opinion says that if you don't believe it cannot hurt you."

"Since when do you go along with popular opinion?" He demanded with a smile.

She was grinning up at him and had just opened her mouth to reply when she was struck from behind. The skull flew from her fingers and skittered across the floor, coming to rest underneath one of the bowls. Katryn was staggering forward, struggling to keep her feet and pull her sword loose at the same time. She whirled with the blade flashing in the firelight and could just barely make out a wispy form that was dancing towards Deryl now. The Nord obviously couldn't see it fully but the light was bright enough to make it appear as a shadow.

They both advanced, weapons singing through the air and a moment later a very tangible body was dropping to the dirt floor. Katryn was struck dumb much like Deryl was and for a moment they just stared at the thing at their feet. It was wearing a ridiculous headdress that covered its face and was a grimy gold in the shape of a sun. The sprawled body was muscular but slim and probably taller than Deryl. It was not carrying a weapon but the firelight caught another gleam of gold and the Nord was bending to pull loose a ring on the monster's finger. A ruby red jewel was clasped tightly with a thick, heavy gold band and Deryl held it up to Katryn with arched brows.

"Any ideas?" He asked.

The Elf took it, trying to ignore the intense throb in her shoulder from that blow. She studied the ring closely, hefting it in one hand and then giving a shrug.

"I am not sure," Her accent was a little thicker thanks to the pain and she knew he recognized that, "It must have to do with this cavern more than the Nerevar."

He uttered a sharp curse, straightening and grabbing the ring from her. His eyes were deep green as they studied her closely as though he was expecting her to burst into flames or start spouting nonsense.

"I didn't even-"

"I am fine, Deryl, it didn't so much as burn me," She was flippant as she spread her hands to show him and than quickly lowered her right as the pain spiked sharply.

"You're not," He answered, "But you won't let me help anyway. Should we go on? I'm being called again."

She cocked her head at him as she rolled her shoulders a little and debated briefly the wisdom of following after him. Without consulting her, the Nord was making for the right hand passage and she wondered at it before knowing that the voice was leading him.

"Is it calling you by name?" She questioned.

"No," Deryl tilted his own head, knocking the short strands of his white blonde hair from his face and listening to the echoing whispers, "It's just calling the Nerevar. The first command was to bring Wraithguard to the Heart Chamber and help to free the cursed false god. Just then, it was telling me that 'together we'll speak for the Law and Land and drive the mongrel Empire dogs from Morrowind.' Sorry, not much of a Cyrodiil fan."

The Elf was shrugging as they pressed on, slowly heading down towards the center of the cavern.

"I was not much of one when I first visited either."


	33. Chapter 33

For one of the few times in his life, Heidl was nervous. It was nearly dawn and he was still pacing up and down the rug in his study, wearing the already threadbare fabric. He was in such a state of agitation that he almost would have welcomed Bargth and her Dremora; nevermind she was the reason he was so irritated. _She_ was the one who had planted these seeds of doubt in his mind. _She_ was the reason he was second-guessing himself like never before and _she_ was the source of the destructive mania that was bringing his every dream crashing down at his feet.

It was Bargth who had suggested the Brotherhood incapable of disposing of the Nerevar and his little 'shield.' And since Heidl had no control whatsoever over Bargth, she had gone off to follow the pair herself. There had been a glint in her eyes that brooked no argument and she didn't receive one. Heidl had instead hid his trepidation and annoyance as well as he could and was flippant about them leaving. But as time wore on and there wasn't news from either front, he was growing increasingly more anxious.

Not that he was doubting what Bargth was capable of. For all her adamancy about looking out for herself, she had been more than willing to follow through with Heidl's original plan. The only alteration was that she was disposing of the would-be Nerevar herself. Though he had to be honest and remind himself that his opinions had held no sway over the Altmer. She had made it clear she was doing this solely to lash out against her tribe because they had so completely fallen in behind the Nord. So Heidl had stood aside while she gathered up an impressive array of weapons and left for Ghostgate with her Dremora two days ago.

Heidl paused in his pacing and considered the wildcat of a princess that was currently locked away in his cellar. _That_ was the reason for the anxiety. It wasn't a good practice to have a member of the royal family hidden in one's home, especially if they were still living. He shook his head. There was nothing for it. Bargth had promised to take care of what he himself had so far failed to do and if there was anyone who could slaughter two opponents, set it up as a struggle gone awry and make it back to the manor house before all hell broke loose, it was Nema Bargth.

After she had been revealed at the first meeting and through the following audiences with her, this is what Heidl had wished would happen all along. It was Bargth's obstinacy that had prevented him from asking and now that she was filling her place so beautifully, it had been difficult to keep from gloating. But he hadn't, knowing she would turn around the instant the words were out of his mouth, and instead let the admittedly dangerous young woman go with the idea in her head that she was the mastermind here.

Heidl headed for the door of the study. The rational side of his brain won once more. As much as he wanted to get everything over and done with; take care of the girl and then the Empire's dogs that were running rampant in Morrowind, he was going to have to bide his time a little longer and pray that Bargth held up her end of the bargain.

* * *

It was Katryn's turn to follow Deryl and though it was an odd state of affairs for her, she couldn't help but be a little proud of him. The Nord was taking on those responsibilities he had been willing to leave to her and she was pleased he was doing so without too many complaints. They were easing down a long, low cavern with more than a little caution. The Elf was still unable to cast magic and Deryl's excitement induced comments were not helping her ability to hear what might be coming. It wasn't as though the Nord was intentionally trying to distract her. Instead he was trying to drown out the sound of the voice calling to him.

"You know," He observed, his voice nearly a whisper as his boot slid across loose stones and Katryn had to grab at his elbow to keep him from falling, "I don't think there really ever was a way for the Nerevar to succeed. Think about it. All those poor fools in the cavern; having to deal with the Ashlanders and Ordinators and now there's a chance this damn voice is going to drive me crazy."

"You're the Nerevar, Deryl," Katryn's quiet answer wasn't what he wanted to hear and she grabbed his arm again to make him slow down when a gleam of light appeared around a corner ahead of them, "You were meant to come this far and if Dagoth bests you here, I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Your confidence is my strength," He replied dryly and grinned down at her, "Are you ready?"

"It does not matter now."

They eased down the passage, not wanting to come up on anything unexpectedly and this time when the voice called, Katryn could hear it too. Ancient and dry, it was devoid of any accent which surprised her considering Dagoth Ur was supposed to have been native to Morrowind.

"Come freely," It whispered, "It is for the Nerevar to strike the first blow and I have a desire to speak first."

Deryl cast a questioning glance down at Katryn and she seemed to read his mind.

"It's for the Nerevar to decide, Deryl," She told him softly with a little smile, "I'm behind you; whatever you do."

"But this time not before me," He clarified and was shunted forward by her exasperated shove.

"Spiteful," She muttered, not the best description but to be fair, she _was_ kind of distracted and _he_ was being obnoxious.

He wasn't given a chance to retaliate. They suddenly found themselves in a large cavern room, similar to the one behind them and there was Dagoth Ur. He was much like the Dagoth creature they left in the previous cavern, though his mask had three rays sprouting from the top and his fingers were long and claw-like. Taller than Deryl and more muscular than the other monster, he was standing against one wall and they could see the glittering of his eyes in the flaring light of the fire-lit bowls.

Deryl was pushing Katryn behind him, his fingers squeezing his blade so hard his knuckles were turning white. The other creature had only been a distraction, something to test their readiness to face Dagoth Ur and as the Nord looked the new obstacle over, he was unsure of their victory for the very first time since he began any of this.

"Long I have waited for this moment," Dagoth Ur was saying, the movement of mouth and jaw lost under the mask, "I have considered sharing this place with you many times; wondering over the centuries if it were possible for us to once again be brothers-in-arms, comrades, friends… But I see now it is no use. You have made your decision. Perhaps you will allow me a few questions before I destroy you?"

The certainty of the tone made Deryl's spine stiffen; his arrogance came rushing back as his pride recognized that insult.

"Destroy me?" He repeated, "That's presuming a lot, don't you think? None of your little bastard minions have bested me yet, what makes you think it will end now?"

"One of us must succeed and I possess powers beyond the scope of your meager human thought," Dagoth Ur's voice had taken on a hard edge, "Not even your… hero, was it?… can protect you this time."

"Leave her out of this," The Nord was speaking softly, his own tone incredibly dangerous and he shifted even more in front of Katryn, "This is between you and me. Ask your questions if you have to and let's get this over with."

Katryn's faint annoyance at his protectiveness didn't last long as Dagoth Ur straightened and began asking.

"Are you really Nerevar Reborn?"

Deryl frowned, still on edge, but successfully thrown by the question.

"The Three Houses, Four Tribes and Vivec himself have proclaimed me to be, so it would seem that fate and the gods themselves think so," The Nord was his straightforward, honest self and Katryn was happy to see it.

"I see," Dagoth Ur sighed and it seemed sorrow itself. There was no way of reading his face, but his tone was enough to tell them what he was feeling, "This time it will be your turn to pay for your faithlessness, Lord Nerevar. My second question is this: What will you do with the Heart of Lorkhan? Will you make yourself a god or use it to drive out the Empire from Morrowind, eventually competing with the Septims for the rule of Tamriel?"

Katryn stiffened behind Deryl and he could practically feel the heat of her gaze in the back of his head. This was clearly a path that she had wanted to keep from him and not one she had even considered him following. When they spoke with Saryoni, he had made it clear the Heart was to be destroyed. It was the only way to destroy Dagoth Ur and free Morrowind from her blight. And although the prospect of godhood and true immortality was tempting, the Nord wasn't about to do that to Katryn.

"I have my own plan for the Heart," He answered finally.

"Well, this I had not expected. Perhaps you are an instinctive liar or perhaps I may yet be surprised by the workings of mere mortals. My last question, Nerevar, and then we can begin: If I offered you a place beside me, joining me in this quest to take back what was once the gods' domain, would you? Would you surrender Keening, Sunder, and Wraithguard to me if it meant you could live forever; have any boon you desire?"

Katryn could feel the glittering eyes land on her and she wondered just how much of their thoughts this creature could read. He certainly knew which buttons to push with Deryl and she was afraid to think of what would have happened had she not decided to join him. The Nord was clearly considering this new option and taking an even longer time answering than the last one. The struggle was evident on his face and before she thought about it, the Elf was reaching out to squeeze his forearm and murmuring,

"Strength, Deryl, you are not alone."

He blinked and seemed to wake up from a stupor. Without glancing at her, he was straightening his shoulders and meeting Dagoth Ur's gaze levelly.

"No," He said and it was soft, uncertain. Shaking his head a little, he added more firmly, "Never. Nothing you can offer would make it worth giving up on those depending on me to finish this, once and for all."

"I thought not," Dagoth Ur was sighing again and pushing away from the wall he had leaned against, "Well, there is nothing left to debate. The move is yours, Nerevar."

Deryl stalked forward as Katryn loosed her bow from her shoulder. Dagoth Ur stood silent, unmoving, but his eyes still glittered as they watched the two edge closer to him. Katryn paused a few yards away while Deryl darted forward quite suddenly. His sword went arcing through the air and it didn't seem the monster was going to stop it. Indeed, Dagoth Ur waited until the blade was to sink into his neck before side-stepping and moving forward, sending one hand crashing against Deryl's back and making him stagger forward as the momentum of his swing carried him.

Katryn acted then as well, though her attack went about as well as the Nord's. The arrow simply bounced off Dagoth Ur, leaving only the smallest raw mark in the grimy brown skin where someone might guess _something_ had happened. She did serve as a distraction though. Dagoth Ur swung towards her, advancing more quickly than she guessed he would and she was taking a step back, pulling her sword loose as she did so. Deryl was back to himself before the monster reached her and they both took on Dagoth Ur, fighting more fiercely than ever before.

The cavern was not large and there was only one other tunnel leading further into the earth. An unholy light was emitting from it and that's where Dagoth Ur was fighting to retreat to. He was backing up but simply leading Katryn and Deryl that way as well. Caught between the two, he suddenly ducked away from Katryn's lethal swing and darted for Deryl, opening his palm as he went. A moment later, there was a _bang_ and smoke flooded around them. Katryn was almost too slow to catch Deryl's blind jab at the monster but she reacted instantly. Her own blade went up and the point of the sword was deflected but she didn't account for his weight. They smacked into one another and the Nord was gripping her firmly to keep from falling on top of her.

Stumbling away from him, coughing and blinking in the smoke, Katryn strained to see where Dagoth Ur might have disappeared to but there was nothing. The coast was absolutely clear and she let herself relax momentarily, not the best idea but she needed it. Her shoulder was aching, more painful than it had been in years and she dropped to her heels, letting the sword slip from her fingers as she rummaged through her pack.

"Are you alright?" Deryl asked and crouched next to her, "I didn't-"

"No," She didn't like the breathlessness in her voice, "Just my shoulder. You? The old wounds have not started bleeding again, I hope?"

"No, I'm fine," His gaze was shuttered, "How are we going to do this, Kat? Nothing seems to effect that damn… thing and without your handy magic tricks, I don't see how this will end well."

The Elf popped the cork loose on one of her potions and drank half before handing it to him. Her gaze was determined and she was setting her jaw stubbornly, neither of which Deryl liked.

"You have to destroy the Heart," She said simply, "Saryoni told you as much. Destroy the Heart and you destroy Dagoth Ur. Leave him to me."

"Like that's going to happen," He muttered, his eyes flashing quickly.

She leveled her own gaze at him and fastened the straps on her pack. Setting it against one wall and leaving more room across her shoulders for the quiver, she got to her feet and became even more stubborn.

"You have to," She replied simply, "I will serve as a distraction and you will be able to destroy the Heart without getting a knife to your back."

"I'm more worried about _your_ back," He argued and followed after her quickly as she made for the tunnel leading further in, "Kat-,"

"There is a reason I was named the Champion of Cyrodiil, Deryl, and that will protect me well enough," She was tugging her sword loose again and slowing as the mouth of the tunnel yawned before them.

With just a brief moment of hesitation, during which the Elf sent him her usual self-deprecating smile, she stepped forward into that unholy light and he had no choice but to follow. Ahead of them was a monstrosity of mechanisms, almost resembling the shape of a man, hovering over a lava pit that sent up wave upon roiling wave of heat. The light was bouncing off the gleaming gold surface and making it almost blinding to look at for too long. The rock and dried lava ground they were standing on wound around the pit and in some places looked to be quite close to disappearing within moments. Halfway around, to their left, was a precipice that jutted out and went right to what almost passed for a chest in the mass of metal before them.

"Come on, stick close," Deryl told her quietly and started around that way.

His face was set grimly. Clearly he was bound and determined to keep her safe no matter what her arguments had been. They were only halfway there when there was a rush of air and Dagoth Ur sprang from the very earth. He threw himself at Deryl and Katryn was quick to intercept him. Her blade was glittering in the orange light and her eyes were practically on fire as she struck again and again at the monster, driving him back. She successfully caused him to stumble towards the pit and she was shouting at the Nord who had remained frozen,

"Deryl, now!"

He watched for a heartbeat longer and then bolted for the little bridge. An ash slave leapt from nowhere to bar his way and he cut it down without blinking. There was a hiss of another behind him, closer to Katryn, and it took everything within him to keep from jumping to her aide. The bridge was narrow and there was nothing separating him from a tumble into the lava other than his own very careful footing. From this position, he couldn't help but glance back and saw with pleasure that Katryn was holding her own and didn't seem to be in any serious trouble. Steeling himself to turning his back on her, he pulled Sunder from his belt and advanced on the large, purple-red Heart that, with its myriad of tubes and eerily lifelike movement, was the clearly the only thing keeping the mass that was Akulakhan whole.

Katryn ducked away from Dagoth Ur, her sword a blur to her own eyes, and almost collided with the ash slave that was behind her. She back-peddled and side-stepped again to avoid both monsters and decided that Dagoth Ur was the higher priority at the moment. The creature was just as tough as Deryl had predicted and none of her sweeps seemed to affect him. His eyes were still glittering madly in the light and were now glowing red with fury.

She dodged away from him, striking down the ash slave as she went and was whirling to face him again when he was suddenly there before her. His claw-like fingers raked sharply across her own hand, knocking her sword from her grip and in an instant, they were closing around her neck. She lashed out, kicking his shins and knees which only succeeded in making him stumble against her, knocking them both into the dirt wall. The monster's weight was pinning her there and the breath was knocked out of the Elf. She was helpless, Dagoth Ur's fingers were tightening and black spots were dancing before her eyes. Her own hands groped up blindly, searching for some weakness in this thing as he squeezed even more tightly and she felt her life escaping when, suddenly, he stopped.

Katryn sagged, her body slipping down as her legs gave out and she was sitting on the floor, gasping still and feeling pain come with each blessed breath. Dagoth Ur remained frozen where he was, half turned to the huge Akulakhan behind him and then he started running for the little bridge. As he did so, there was an ominous rumble through the earth as though it was tired of the weight of this thing and Deryl came sprinting towards Katryn like his life depended on it. He didn't pause for conversation; instead, he yanked her to her feet and half carried her out of the chamber.

As soon as they were through the doorway, the Akulakhan crumbled. The ridge that had surrounded it fell into the lava and the golden shell was melting. There was a brief moment where Dagoth Ur's tall, lithe form was silhouetted against the destruction and then he, too, was gone.

Katryn felt her strength give out just as suddenly and she slipped from Deryl's firm grip and dropped to the floor. Her lungs were burning and by the searing pain in her throat, she knew the damage there was probably not merely superficial. The Nord was beside her in an instant as she fought to even her breathing.

"Kat? Katryn, are you okay?" His voice was pitched more highly as fear took hold, "Kat, damn it, tell me you're okay!"

"You are… not help - ah… helping," It was barely even a ghost of her usual voice. Her accent was so thick, it was hard to tell if she was actually speaking Basic and her sharp gasps for breath were painful to hear.

Sighing, Deryl grabbed her discarded pack beside the doorway. A quick glance told him that the destruction of Akulakhan was meant for that one room only and although he was more than elated with their success, he couldn't celebrate fully until Katryn was there to do so as well. He dropped the bag beside her and watched as she gingerly pawed through it until she found yet another potion bottle. She struggled with the cork for a full minute before Deryl helped her and she could hardly suppress the cry of pain as she swallowed its contents.

She remained sitting where she was, curling her legs so she was perched cross-legged and closing her eyes. Deryl could have sat happily beside her there for the rest of his life. He had just fulfilled his destiny, became what the gods willed for him to become; barely escaped with his life; had found one of a very precious few that could be considered a true friend; had fallen more in love with her than any other woman in his life and now was given the chance to watch as color returned to her face and her burning eyes opened with such a pleased, contented expression, he wanted to knock her breathless again; though this time with a kiss.

The Elf, not surprisingly, must have been able to read something in his face. She slowly got to her feet, struggling as she did so, and didn't look away from him as she gave a slight bow and said,

"My Lord Nerevar, let… me be the… first to congratulate you," Her strength was easing back and her voice was a little better, but that simple move clearly cost her something.

Deryl was advancing and catching her in a hug that nearly dropped her to the ground again. He crushed the little Elf to his chest, lowering his mouth to the top of her pointed ear and planting a kiss on the soft hair. The newly loosed strands tickled his lips as he murmured,

"I'd be nowhere, hero, without you. Don't leave yourself out."

She smiled against the leather of his breastplate. He was squeezing too hard and she couldn't bring herself to tell him to stop. Her throat was swollen and still very painful, her shoulder was killing her and she had never wanted sleep so badly. But for some reason, this embrace, even in the chamber now heating up thanks to the expanded lava pool next door; everything about it felt right. She had been meant to help him and no matter what her feelings for him or Martin might be, she couldn't deny him this.

"This is a moment… for the Nerevar," She replied, "Morrowind's hero and champion… not Cyrodiil's. Take full advantage."

"And history books will remember only me, is that it?" He didn't want to pull away, but she was shifting uncomfortably and he stepped back to grin genuinely at her.

"Precisely," She answered and winced as she picked up her pack, "But let's go… We - I still have much… to do."

Knowing she would never except an offer from him to carry her pack, he lead the way up the path instead, his heart growing lighter with each step.

"You're not alone in this, Kat, I don't intend on-,"

He was pushing her behind him firmly as a wispy form was suddenly appearing at the top of the tunnel, in the entrance to the next cavern room. It slowly took on the form of a woman with angular features and arms that moved from the chest to extend out, palms cupping in a gesture that Katryn recognized first.

"Azura," She murmured to Deryl.

The Nord wasn't able to reply. A soft voice that rose and fell in a sing-song lilt pleasant to listen to, whispered in the cavern. With the voice came a sense of peace and well-being, like everything was as it should be and even Deryl relaxed as it spoke.

"You no longer bear the burden of prophecy. You have achieved your destiny. You are free. The doomed Dwemer's folly, Lord Dagoth's temptation, the Tribunal's seduction, the god's heart freed, the prophecy fulfilled. All fates sealed and sins redeemed. If you have pity, mourn the loss, but let the weeping cease. The Blight is gone, and the sun's golden honey gilds the land. Hail savior, Hortator, and Nerevarine. Your people look to you for protection. Monster and villains great and small still threaten the people of and evils abound, yet indomitable will might rid Morrowind of all its ills. For you, our thanks and blessings; our gift and token given. Come; take this thing from the hand of a god."

And just like that, Azura's form disappeared. There was the slightest _clink_ of something hitting the dirt and stone path and then silence. It was yet another ring and this one was exquisite. It shone like the moonlight, seeming to admit the light itself without the aid from the bowls of fire, and was unadorned like the other ring that had come from Azura.

Deryl picked it up and examined it closely before pocketing it and going on. Katryn was making her way gingerly still and Deryl didn't mind. There was no threat, of that they were certain. The cavern hadn't lost that air of peace and instead it seemed to grow stronger, as though it was working hard to dispel the evil from the cavern.

Outside, the sun was beginning to rise and the air was crisp and fresh. The only clouds in the sky were high and wispy and the breeze itself promised the coming winter and better days. They made good time to Ghostgate and Katryn was so eager to get news from the City that she talked the Nord out of staying at the fort for long. Instead they decided to make for Ald-ruhn, though they both knew Baurus had most likely gotten a lead and left the city behind. Katryn wasn't in the mood for common sense arguments and Deryl was still so happy to be alive that he didn't pose any.

They left the fort behind, much to the dismay of the Armigars there who were astonished to see them again, and gratefully left the imposing wall of Ghostgate. They were two miles down the road when it happened.

A shadow seemed to cross over the pale sunshine and they had no warning. Katryn hadn't been checking with her charm because she hadn't seen the use and so went on pure instinct as she stepped in front of Deryl. There was a Dremora off to her left that she barely registered and instead her attention was focused on the Altmer that was trying to cut the Nord down.

Deryl cursed as the blade flashed wickedly in the sunlight and tried to shove Katryn away from him, but he was too late. The Elf was letting out a cry of pain as she stumbled back and fell to her knees. There was blood everywhere and Deryl's eyesight went red with fury. Before the Altmer got the chance to finish Katryn off, he was attacking, not really seeing what he was doing and not thinking for a second that his little 'hero' was gone.

In spite of the pain, Katryn kept her head and was thinking like a healer. Both hands were on the wound and, without her permission, her body was dropping back on the ground. She felt the wound with her fingers, trying to keep the unconsciousness at bay and knew she was in trouble. The blade had cut through the armor into flesh and she was losing blood fast. She would need immediate attention and she couldn't muster the energy to cast a healing charm. Once again, each breath was a chore and the last thing she saw was the Dremora charging at Deryl as he killed the Altmer, and then the world went black.


	34. Chapter 34

Martin was pacing… again. His fingers were clasped tightly behind his back and he knew the shadows under his eyes were deeper than ever. _But joy of joys!_ His mind told him. _Mia is safe and well!_ Which was the truth. Baurus, as was his habit, had discovered which trail to follow and stumbled upon a manor house in the middle of the barren wildlands surrounding Ald-ruhn. The Redguard wouldn't have thought anything of it if not for the Altmer boy that had flagged them from the man door in the massive wall. The boy hadn't been able to tell them what was going on, thanks to an expertly removed tongue, but Baurus' natural distrust of rich recluses paid off. A search of the home revealed a hidden room heavily stocked with a necromancer's tools and an altar that was stained with what looked like blood. And when the men found the locked cellar door, the little Bosmer who owned the place needed no more convincing to turn over the key other than the fact that, behind Baurus, there were fourteen well armed men trained to kill. So Mia was found, still alive but in substantial pain and worn out with crying and poor nourishment.

Currently, the Bosmer was locked in the dungeon and had not uttered a single word of what his plans had been. Mia, on the other hand, was resting peacefully for what had to be the first time in days. She had clung to Martin for the first few hours of returning to the palace, terrified of letting him out of her sight and Martin had not wanted to let her go. Her back pain was worrisome and Matti had done what she could, but it would be a surprise if the princess ever went back to normal. Other than that and an understandably ravenous hunger, she was fine and had gone to sleep quickly and easily.

The real worry for Martin was his Elf… the woman he loved who was barely clinging to life as healers tried everything to save her.

Shudders ran through his body as he made yet another lap, feeling like a caged animal. Mia was sound asleep behind the door across from Katryn's and Martin couldn't decide which one he wanted to go to more. When word reached him about Katryn, he had nearly lost it. One of the few tricks from Camoran that he emulated, and put to good use, was the practice of Illumine. That way, he was able to talk to his captains without the hassle of travel time and the risk that some delegate would want a face-to-face consultation with him. And though it had saved him several times from meeting someone he had no wish to see, he never again wanted to get a message as devastating as the one about Katryn.

When he spoke with the Armigar in charge of Ghostgate, the Elf's condition had been questionable at best. The Nord had rushed Katryn back as quickly as he was able but there was worry he hadn't been quick enough. The only person Martin wanted looking after his Elf was Matti and so he arranged for a priest and healer to send Katryn to the City, to the teleportation platform in the palace. Everyone had advised him against it and he ignored them all. The woman he loved could be dying, for the gods' sake! Was he supposed to sit idly by and let it happen? He had not thought so and gave the order and Katryn was sent safely to him.

This was greeted with even worse news. Matti hated what he had done and exploded at him for one of precious few times. She could've put Baurus in his place and Martin never wanted to go against the healer again. But she didn't hold a grudge like her husband did and as soon as her rage abated, she had given his shoulder an affectionate squeeze, understanding in her brown eyes. She knew why he had done it without having to ask, which was a blessing. He was tired of explaining why he made some of his more questionable choices. Instead the healer had gathered her things and closeted herself in the bedroom Martin designated to Katryn; a bedroom that was just down the hall from the Emperor's own chambers. She had not protested to that, nor had she let him in the room with her.

So that meant he paced.

He knew he would be safe going into the room now. Matti had told him several hours ago while he watched his daughter sleep that they had done everything they could for Katryn and now the rest was up to the Elf. She would have to be strong enough to pull through and that left Martin in the agonizing position of watching and waiting. He had nodded and told Matti to go get some sleep and then let the sight of his daughter soothe his troubles as best it could. And, surprisingly, it worked.

Martin was a pushover where Mia was concerned and nothing in his days with the Blades: the ever present threat to his life; the sleepless nights and tough strategy decisions; the Battle for Bruma and Jauffre's death; Camoran's Paradise and the Temple of the One; nothing had been as hard as keeping the faith while his daughter was gone. And on considering this, he wrote out an explanation to Gozrak and Marna, grudgingly asking the Orc to let Levin know as well and made sure it went towards Anvil as soon as the messenger was able.

That's when the pacing started. The soldier had left to wake a messenger and Martin wasn't sure if he wanted to return to Mia or check on Katryn just for his own well-being. The window at the end of the hall told him it was snowing again and the light of the lamps reflected on the snowflakes beautifully. It reminded him of the night he and Katryn went into Camoran's Paradise, when the Elf was angry and upset with him, and emerging again with the knowledge that she loved him as he loved her.

Making up his mind and setting his jaw, he turned and opened Katryn's bedroom door quietly. It was dimly lit and none of the lights were close to the bed so the Elf was swathed mostly in shadow, along with the figure beside her. The head came up sharply at the sound of the door and eyes that were dark grey glittered in the lamp light. It was the Nord and Martin frowned briefly. There was soft _thump-thump_ as Hecter's tail hit the floor when he saw the Emperor but he didn't leave his spot at Deryl Lofolk's feet.

Martin tried to ignore the little pricklings of jealousy at the sight of the Nord and instead his eyes drank in Katryn's form as he stopped at the foot of the bed. She was pale, her skin was a sickly grey and each soft breath was a struggle. Her long eyelashes were lost in the crescents of shadows under her eyes and her hair lay in a tangled mess across the pillow. The knife wound had been deep, severe, and though it missed vital organs by centimeters, she was suffering blood loss and the magic to turn that was as draining as the problem.

"Any change?" He asked the Nord softly.

It didn't bother him that Deryl remained seated. He had always been the advocate for making sure people treated him like he was a normal man and the Nord didn't seem the type to kowtow to anyone.

Deryl inhaled quickly, dropping his gaze back to Katryn. He was lightly skimming his fingers over the back of one of her hands and he frowned at the raw scratches he had been tracing without seeing. Hecter was resting his head close by and he kept bumping Katryn's fingers with his nose as though trying to wake her.

"No, not really," He answered finally, not looking up. The pain that Martin was not trying to hide was making the love in his eyes even more poignant and, for once in his life, Deryl wasn't willing to intrude on such a private moment. Nor was he willing to let the Emperor usurp him, "The healer came back to check her bandages, but the diagnoses is still the same. She has to have the strength to pull through herself."

Martin was nodding, watching with a pang as Hecter nosed his way ever closer to his lady. The wolfhound had refused to leave with Gozrak, seeming to sense that this was where Katryn would end up eventually and Martin had been happy to keep him. Even if it was for the sole reason that the Elf would have to return here to retrieve him and he could see her again.

The gentle caresses of Katryn's hand didn't go unnoticed and he glanced at Deryl's face. The Nord's expression was tender and almost loving and Martin's trepidation grew. He knew firsthand how easy it was to fall in love with Katryn but he wasn't about to give her up without a fight.

"She's been through worse," Martin finally said and even he could hear how uncertain his voice was.

"That's what she kept telling me," Deryl answered and instinctively wanted to comfort Katryn when she let out a little moan of pain, "The shoulder was the only one she ever told me about and that was a concern for a few days. She's a hell of a lot tougher than you'd ever think, though, and she surprised me all the time with what she's capable of."

Martin couldn't help but fish a little. If he was dealing with just Deryl's feelings, that he could handle, but if Katryn loved the Nord… he could and would have to learn to let her go. As long as she was happy…

"She tends to do that," He replied slowly and was moving across to the Elf's other side. He perched on the edge of the bed and forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. If he started touching her, he would never leave this bedroom, "Her titles were not given to her without reason. We would have been screwed without her."

" _I_ would have been screwed without her," Deryl's voice was quietly passionate and his fingers were clasping hers for a brief moment.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for whatever the answer happened to be, Martin asked before he could convince himself not to,

"Are you in love with her?"

The Nord's reaction wasn't what he suspected it would be. He barely glanced up and instead studied the Elf's shadowed features for a moment as he thought on that. His fingers were still gripping hers and he nodded his head a little as though he had known this would come up from the very beginning.

"Not like you think," He replied and was speaking slowly, choosing his words with care, "What I felt for her at the start and what I feel for her now… neither of those have to do with love. I wanted her; I mean look at her, she's gorgeous. Who wouldn't want her? But now… Kat's one of the few people I've ever truly respected. I respect the hell out of her and if we had… gone that far, everything would have changed. I don't want it to change."

Martin's relief was palpable. He was chuckling for the first time in days and before he could reconsider, he was reaching out to take Katryn's other hand in his. Her slim fingers were warm and the feel was the same as he remembered.

"You won't be offended if I say I'm happy to hear that?"

Deryl was smiling a little as he watched the Emperor. The initial scorn he felt for him was starting to fade and he could see the man, the _priest_ , that Katryn had fallen in love with.

"You're a lucky bastard," He responded and wasn't at all concerned that there might be fallout with such a statement.

"It will be her choice," Martin was speaking matter-of-factly, knowing that was all the answer Deryl was going to give him and thrilled that he wasn't going to have to deal with another Levin, "And given our past, that's a toss-up."

Deryl was getting to his feet. Martin's expression was another of those private ones and he knew he had worn out his welcome here, no matter what he and Katryn had been through, together, for the past couple of weeks. He felt a little pang of jealousy, despite his words, as he watched Martin press his lips to Katryn's slender fingers with a tender possessiveness. The Emperor still felt the Elf was his and damn the past and all its memories.

"You might be surprised at how many changes of hearts the world's hero has had," He said dryly and smiled a little as the Emperor glanced up at him, "Don't lose heart, Septim."

Deryl was to the door before Martin spoke again,

"The room next door is yours. You're more than welcome to stay as long as you like."

* * *

It was a day and a half later when Katryn opened her eyes and blinked at the massive form sitting beside her bed. The coarse black hair was pulled back and in the muscular arms was a bundle that was waving small green fists at the new father.

"I… never thought to… see this," She whispered and had to smile in spite of a grimace as she startled her Orc.

Gozrak was ecstatic. His jet black eyes were lit with happiness and he was jostling the baby in his excitement.

"Give her to me before you squish her without realizing it," Marna's firm voice was pleasant and after accepting her daughter, she bent and was kissing Katryn's brow, "I am glad you're well. He's been unbearable and I don't know what we'd do without you."

Katryn couldn't have asked for a better reception and the added presence of Levin, Baurus and Matti with their twins, Deryl's almost shy greeting and Hecter's rather wet one were more than she could hope for. Things were made better when she heard that Mia had been returned to her father safely and the Bosmer responsible was jailed.

Gozrak sat by her bed for hours those next few days as she recovered, entertaining her with his baby girl, Hlara. He was proud and a little defiant when he said the name, as though daring her to talk him out of it and she was so touched she couldn't even think of doing so. Deryl would join them as well and, to the Elf's surprise, her Orc got on quite well with him. She convinced herself it was something to do with the fact that both of them considered themselves her protectors and she left it at that.

The one she most desperately wanted to see and the one giving her the most space was Martin. She was hurt and then angered by this and Deryl was the one to inform her of his vigil over her as she slept. The Nord had told her of this without a hint of jealousy and only the slightest wistfulness.

"Are you taking… his side?" She asked one day, sitting up in her bed and repairing her leather breastplate where the knife had sliced through.

"I'm in it for myself, you know that," He answered promptly and then had to tease, "Why not get a new one? You're rolling in gold coin, according to the rumors."

She glanced up at him and laid the armor across her lap. Her fingers touched the thick stitches and then wandered up to the other repair in the shoulder.

"It tells a story," She replied, choosing to be serious, "And despite several… mishaps, this has treated me… well. I'm rather partial to it… Perhaps it has brought me… luck."

"You _are_ luck, hero," He laughed and his eyes were green again, "You're the last one that _needs_ it."

The Elf was smiling as well and deciding not to tell him how much she loved hearing that endearment again. Instead, she added to her alphabet,

"Truckler."

* * *

It had been nearly two weeks since Katryn was brought back to the palace and Martin had only been to see her while she was conscious once. And that was just to formally thank her and bestow a monetary gift for bringing home the princess. The gold was promptly sent to Anvil for the people to use as they wished and Martin was gone again before Katryn could tell him of the revelation she had had while with Sarethi in Ald-ruhn.

Despair came before anger and then both were dispelled as she realized how busy he must be. He was still wrapped up in Mia, whose pain had not lessened any since the first of her treatments after coming home. The poor girl was woken from nightmares, screaming for her father and now refused to sleep without a light burning. Adding these troubles to the concerns of the state, it was a wonder Martin got around to thanking Katryn at all.

The Elf busied herself as well. She was regaining strength more quickly as the days went on and soon, she was able to wander about the palace as she wished. There were pauses now and again to catch her breath and her heartache for Martin grew as she haunted what had been some of their favorite places in the old structure. So she started venturing outside.

Martin was watching her more closely than she thought and she was annoyed to discover that she couldn't go more than a few yards outside the palace door without having at least two guards right behind her. It was only because Gozrak had had to return to the smithy and had taken Marna and Hlara with him; while Deryl was back in Morrowind for a time as he met with the Great Houses and Four Tribes to discuss their future practices and legislature.

It only took a few days for the Elf to decide that she wanted to test her strength and though the guards with her tried to talk her out of it, they weren't about to fully oppose the Champion of Cyrodiil. So they followed rather grudgingly behind her as she gingerly made her way to the Temple District with stops to catch her breath every now and then. Each time she did so, one or the other guard would step forward to inquire whether they should turn back and she waved them off impatiently. She knew what she was doing, she knew where she wanted to end up and they would have to take her back forcibly if they were going to stop her.

But they didn't, (and wouldn't), and she reached the Temple of the One as the sun started setting, casting its slanted rays across the patches of ice and snow and making the puffs of her breath even more apparent in the sky. It was beautiful in the coming evening and the attendants were beginning to light the little oil lamps outside the doors and along the support columns in the District.

Katryn felt the guards hang back as she went to the courtyard of the Temple and she was grateful for it. The Temple itself had been repaired some time ago, but the courtyard was left open to the public and the feet of the dragon statue were littered with flower offerings and little slips of rolled up paper left by parishioners. Katryn's views on religion had stayed the same over the years and though she wasn't about to reprimand these people for wanting to believe the dragon was receptive, she had to wonder why they didn't just send the notes to Martin himself.

She went to the statue and laid her fingers against its leg. It was slightly warm to the touch, as though it was just hours earlier that it had changed from a being of light and fire to stone. This was how it had been the last time she was here, too, just a week after that last battle and it hadn't lost its effect on her.

Martin was supposed to have died that day; his body had been meant for the vessel that would have brought the power of Akatosh into the dragon being and no one had ever been certain why things had changed so drastically. It had been speculated that Martin's willingness to sacrifice himself had been enough; or that he hadn't been meant for the role at all; or maybe it had been Katryn who had the Dragon blood within her, which was her personal favorite if only for the absurdity of such a thing. Whatever the reason happened to be, she was almost wishing that things had ended differently, sparing both of them the pain they were going through now. Maybe it would have been better if it _had_ been her; that way she wouldn't have damaged her priest so badly.

The Elf heaved a sigh, wincing as she felt the sharp pull of stitches and tipped her head against the statue. She pressed her forehead to the warm stone and closed her eyes, letting the pain wash over her and this time it wasn't just the burning in her side. Her heart was heavy and the dull ache was worse than anything else. Perhaps she would accept Levin this year, since Martin didn't seem-

"I wondered how long it'd take you," The Emperor's amused voice was close behind her, "Afterall, it's considered a taboo to come to the Imperial City and not make the pilgrimage to the Temple of the One, where everything started."

She turned to him and felt her heart leap like it had every time they found themselves alone together and his love for her was more evident than ever. Martin was looking thoroughly like her priest: from his commoner's clothing to his lively, tender blue eyes, and half smile. Trying to act nonchalant, she shrugged a little and couldn't help but wince again.

"I would… hope so," She answered, much more breathless than she thought.

Martin was quick to see it. His smile was transformed into a frown and he took a small step towards her.

"You've overdone it."

"No, this is… good. I need this," The Elf was half turned to the statue again and making it quite clear that she was keeping him in her peripheral vision in case he came any closer.

The Emperor debated briefly on trying to convince her and wisely ruled against it. Any protest from anyone would only make her more determined to do what she wanted and he didn't want to get into that now. Instead he stepped towards the statue himself and made a show of studying it.

"Did you ever wonder why everything happened the way it did that day?"

She glanced up at him sharply, wondering if he could possibly know that those were her exact thoughts just moments before. His loving blue eyes were on her again with an expression that was not beneficial to rational thought and she nodded her head.

"Sometimes, yes."

Martin clasped his hands behind his back, wanting to hold her and getting tired of fighting it. He went through the pretense of studying the statue again.

"You know the most popular theories and I remember your favorite," He said and his voice had taken on the tone of a teacher's which amused Katryn to no end. He was doing well in the father role, "My favorite came a little later."

The unspoken words there were: 'after you were gone,' and those were carefully avoided. She dropped her gaze, hating that she had caused him so much pain and then tugged rather ruthlessly on a lock of her hair. There was a small stone bench that had been partially covered with the floral offerings and she was sinking onto it as her limited strength was spent. His gaze was immediately concerned and he half raised one hand to signal the guards when she shook her head.

"It is only fair… that you tell me," She said and forced lightness into the words, "Eye for an eye?"

Martin looked at her for a heartbeat longer and then nodded slowly.

"Right, fair's fair," He reluctantly turned to the dragon and looked up at the roaring face, "Well, the one that has come up recently is that… both of us had a part to play in the emergence of the dragon. I was willing to give up my life to protect the City and its people and you were willing to die… with me. We each gave a little of our blood to complete the ritual: me voluntarily and you purely on accident, and even though the Amulet was smashed, that sacrifice seemed to be enough," He was facing her again and felt his breath catch. She had never looked more beautiful as she sat there watching him avidly, flowers surrounding her, "A pure heart was needed, so I'm told, and once again you gave of yourself for me."

The Elf shook her head, not able to look away from him. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap and she knew her emotions were written across her face.

"I could not let you go," She murmured, "And I shouldn't… have all those years… ago."

He drew in a startled gasp and wondered if it was really going to be this easy. He wanted her more than ever and he took a few steps towards her.

"Kat," He said, his voice thick.

She stood slowly and was suddenly unsure of what she was going to do. This was her chance to right the wrongs, to make them both happy, and to forget about the past 16 years and the difficulty was astounding.

"I'm sorry, Martin," She replied and it was nearly a whisper. She watched as his blue eyes flickered with uncertainty and hurt and she realized he misunderstood her, "I lied to you… that night. I did not leave because… of your royalty. It was… Cladia's father."

"Cladia's father?" Martin repeated, his heart was still thudding heavily and his expression was one that promised to make it difficult for her to leave when she decided to, "What does Meils have to do with us?"

Katryn loved the way he said that and, without hesitation, told him everything that had happened that night: from Baurus' discovery to her own gut-wrenching decision to run away.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Martin promised as soon as she was finished, affirming Baurus' prediction of what his response would have been.

"Yes, it would have," She answered somberly, "I told Baurus this… Martin, Cyrodiil would have been… crushed. I could not do that."

The Emperor closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his and this time sitting with her on that bench amidst the flowers. The twilight was growing and the oil lamps were reflecting across her hair and making her eyes burn even more brightly. He clasped her slender fingers in his, thrilled by the fact that she wasn't pulling away.

"So you _had_ to leave me, that's your argument?" He clarified and his eyes were becoming unreadable, not something she was used to.

"I don't expect you… to understand," Her voice was a murmur and she was looking down at their clasped hands as though there was something fascinating about them, "Or agree. In fact… I know you won't. But… Martin, I told you once… never listen to the courtiers, rule by your own… beliefs. I've hated myself for talking you… out of that for the past… 16 years. And no doubt, you have not… been happy either."

Martin's expression softened and became more loving than ever. He reached out with one hand and tipped her chin up. He brushed her cheek, the same one with the old scar spanning her cheekbone and then caressed her pulse.

"No, but things will be better now, love, I promise," He said firmly and was quite determined suddenly.

Katryn's heart leapt as he looked at her possessively and his fingers tightened around hers almost painfully. She recognized the look and it made her melt; she couldn't have pulled away if she wanted but that didn't prevent her teasing,

"That is quite the statement… And awfully presumptuous."

"I can see it through," And it was like he was swearing an oath to her. Without letting go of her hand Martin was slipping to one knee in front of her, looking up with such deep longing, the Elf could feel it through her entire being.

"What are you doing?" She asked faintly, already partially knowing the answer.

"Something I should have done 16 years ago," He replied and grasped her other hand as well. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for whatever her answer happened to be, he asked tenderly, "Marry me, Kat? Let's be happy now and forget the past."

Katryn eyes filled with tears and her ability to speak left her in a heartbeat. She could only smile tremulously down into his open, honest face and nod her head. Martin was grinning broadly as he jumped to his feet and then stooped, cradling her face gently in his hands and kissing her like he had been wanting to since she left. _The Temple of the One_. He thought ruefully as the rest of the world disappeared around him, _Where everything started, yes, and where everything was bound to end._


	35. Epilogue

Martin and Katryn had three children, two boys and a little girl who had her mother's eyes and her father's affectionate nature. These three ended up being the link between Mia and Katryn. The princess loved her step-siblings and though the open hostility she had for her father's new wife waned, it took some time. Katryn was more understanding about this than Martin and it was the Elf that kept the Emperor from pushing his daughter. She had known from day one that Mia would remain fiercely loyal to the mother she barely remembered and as far as the Elf was concerned, the girl would have to approach her first. Mia, fully prepared to have to fend off an overbearing stepmother, was surprised when Katryn kept her distance and treated her with the respect that a princess deserved. This and the fact that Katryn was never overtly affectionate with Martin in front of others allowed for a grudging respect to grow within Mia. She would never love Katryn, never form the relationship that Martin had hoped might evolve as the years passed, but that respect was unmarred and mutual and it worked well for both women.

Gozrak was on the verge of following his ward to the City until she reassured him that she had no intention of selling the little cottage on the beach. He had teased her, unthinkingly, about keeping her place of retreat and when he realized what he was saying, started kicking himself. Katryn remained unmoved and instead smiled at him with a twinkle in her eyes that he had not seen for years. She promised that if she did have to retreat again, she wasn't going to be retreating alone and they left it at that. Not that both Marna and Katryn didn't quickly grow exasperated with his constant trips to the City 'just to make sure'. But seeing as Martin rather liked the Orc's protectiveness; shared it as well, and Katryn didn't have to heart to tell him to stop, they got to spend a lot of time with Hlara and she grew up practically another sibling to Martin and Katryn's children.

Deryl found that his life was greatly affected by his little 'hero' and if any of the nobles of the Great Houses noticed that their new Nerevar made more trips to the Imperial City than necessary, they remained quiet about it. Whatever the Nord happened to be doing, it was working well. Morrowind flourished under the Nerevarine's influence and though the decision to give the Ashlanders jurisdiction of the land that had been their ancestors' years before was met in the Houses with arched brows and murmurs of disbelief, it was very effective and, politically, a brilliant move. The people of Morrowind were in awe of the ancestors and the Dunmer tribes and with Deryl taking the chance and giving a little of their power back, he was suddenly quite popular. He still had… questionable trysts with more than one of the noble women he came in contact with, but he was improving. He happily gave all credit to Katryn and still lamented the fact that he never had a chance with her. This made Martin look at him rather sharply while the Elf rolled her eyes and was given the chance to go through her alphabet with new names so many times everyone lost count. Eventually, though, the visits began to lessen and soon, there was another wedding. Deryl married a quiet, steady woman: an Altmer with pale brown eyes whose glow had deepened with kindness and a serenity that the Nord needed.

Martin and Katryn's wedding ceremony, which took place in late spring, was quite small and very private and when Baurus took the initiative and asked why they planned it this way, Martin was the one to answer. He told his general that he would have been happy with just the two of them and he gave Katryn such a look that she flushed pale blue which amused Baurus to no end. He had always loved to see her flustered and Martin knew exactly where to push.

"He is becoming unbearably smug," The Elf muttered to Martin, leaning back against him.

He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to her hair and inhaling what was distinctly his Elf. They were on their honeymoon, (how he loved that thought!) and sitting on the shore, watching as the sun melted into the sea. It was one of the few perfect moments in Martin's life and while at any other time he might have been annoyed at Katryn for talking about Baurus, right now, with her in his arms, he couldn't help but be happy.

"Well, he hasn't had you to keep him in check," He replied and shifted so his mouth was against her pointed ear. His voice had dipped into a huskiness that was unmistakable, "Matti has had a hard time of it on her own."

Katryn's breath hitched in her throat and now it was she who wondered why the hell she had decided to bring up Baurus at a time like this.

"I will see to that as soon as we get back," She said and was turning so she could wrap her arms around his neck.

"Going back?" He repeated and laughed thickly, his hands tightening on her when she made a small sound as his lips brushed the pulse hammering in her neck, "Why?"

"I kept this place for a reason," She whispered, holding him at bay when he tried to kiss her. His blue eyes were stormy with passion, "And you have readily discovered it."

He grinned and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He wanted to sweep her into his arms, crush her to his chest and stay on the beach forever but it wouldn't do for some unsuspecting soul to come across the Emperor and his new wife in a less than… public embrace. Martin was on his feet, pulling her with him and starting down the path to the cottage again before Katryn could blink.

"Let's take another tour of the place," He said with another smile tossed over his shoulder at her. A smile that sent her heart racing and a pleasant flush to creep across her face, making her eyes smoulder, "And this time, let's start with the bedroom."


End file.
